


Noir

by exonomics



Category: Produce 101 (TV), UNIQ (Band), VICTON (Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Anal Sex, And all that jazz, Blow Jobs, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Drug Use, Gun Violence, Infidelity, M/M, Mentions of Capital Punishment, Mentions of homophobia, Mentions of past prostitution, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Seungwoo looking good in 1950s suits, Seungyoun's long hair being mentioned a lot, Smoking, detailed descriptions of dead bodies, mentions of death and dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exonomics/pseuds/exonomics
Summary: After a promotion to Homicide Inspector, Han Seungwoo finds himself thrown into a dangerous case of death, drugs, and destruction. He also finds Cho Seungyoun, a jazz singer who holds a pretty smirk on his lips, and Seungwoo has never felt more afraid.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo
Comments: 74
Kudos: 123
Collections: 99&UP Fic Fest





	1. Act I

**Act I**

**_When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story._ **

**Charles Baxter**

  
  
  


**Bogwang Street 25-gil, Bogwang Neighborhood  
** **September 3  
** **4:29 PM**

They are only two steps out of the car when Byungchan slumps against Seungwoo’s side. “It’s the end of an era, fellas!” he laments, a hand coming up to his forehead. “Never again will we see the sun shine after today.”

“I’m not _dying,”_ Seungwoo chuckles, checking Byungchan’s shoulder as they walk. He takes joy when his partner nearly trips off the sidewalk and onto the street. The cigarette hanging from his lips falls to the ground. 

Byunchan is unfazed though, swinging back up to wrap an arm over Seungwoo’s shoulders. “But I won’t get to see your beautiful mug every day.”

“And I won’t get to see your ugly one.”

Now Byungchan gasps, standing straight again and knocking Seungwoo’s fedora off his head. “Han Seungwoo, you’ll miss my ugly face.”

He will. _Of course_ he will. Seungwoo’s been working with Byungchan since they started at the Yongsan branch of the National Police Agency almost six years ago. But he will always take the opportunity to jerk his friend’s chain. At least for a few moments longer. 

“Hey, that’s _real_ borsalino!” he scowls, bending over to pick his hat up off the road. “Eunji will skin you if she finds out it’s ruined.”

The threat doesn’t scare his partner. Byungchan just rolls his eyes and grabs another cigarette from his jacket pocket. “Just remember me when you’re driving around in a Chrysler.”

That has Seungwoo chuckling again. “I’m moving from Theft inspector to Homicide. It’s not _that_ big of a jump.” 

Byungchan rolls his eyes again, but does not retort back. Instead, he moves to the policemen standing at the edge of the side street where the perimeter begins and flashes his badge. “Choi and Han, Yongsan division, Theft.” Byungchan motions his head over the officers’ shoulder. “Whatcha got?”

One of the officers steps forward and nods. “Two kids walked down the alley, got jumped, and their wallets were stolen.” 

Byungchan frowns and cranes his neck. “Tell me you’ve got a live one?”

Seungwoo walks up and sees a few men surrounding a body on the ground. Definitely dead - Seungwoo can see the blood from the edge of the alley. They wouldn’t have been called if this was just a homicide. 

“Yeah, kid’s over there.” The officer points further down the alley where another cop is standing. There is a young man sitting at his feet, wrapped in a blanket. “Lee Hangyul. Nineteen. Says he and his buddy were walking home from classes when they were attacked. Took their wallets and stabbed the other one.” 

“Yankees?” Seungwoo asks, looking back at the officer. 

“Lee says the group was Korean, but you can talk to him about that.” The officer shrugs. “Take it easy on him, though, he’s pretty shaken up.”

Seungwoo and Byungchan nod, before moving around the police barriers into the alley. “I’ll start asking the other officers and scraping the scene if you take the kid,” Byungchan offers.

“Be my guest,” Seungwoo replies, peeling away and walking around all the activity. There are two inspectors standing over the body, with a handful of policemen skittering around. As he walks past, he peeks around a few officers to the body. It’s not his problem - not yet - but Seungwoo needs to know what he is working with.

The victim is less of a kid and more of a young man - late teens, early twenties if Seungwoo had to guess. He would be pretty tall if he were standing, and at one point may have been good looking. Now though, his face was swelling, turning purple from bruises and matted in blood, much like the rest of his body. Seungwoo can see several stab wounds in the body’s waist. It wouldn’t have taken him long to bleed out if the hits to his head didn’t kill him first. He tucks that information away and turns his attention to the other boy. “I’m Inspector Han Seungwoo,” he greets when he gets to the officer. “I’m from the Yongsan police division for theft and-”

 _“I already spoke to the other officers,”_ the boy - _Hangyul_ \- growls, hiking the blanket around his shoulders further up and turning away. 

The officer that is with him sighs and shakes his head, but Seungwoo waves him off. “I’ve got this.” It’s not his first rodeo. He has had persons of interest punch him in the face. He’s not deterred by some attitude. 

Once the officer walks away, Seungwoo finds a clean(er) spot on the ground and sits down. “Hangyul, right?” he starts with. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The boy’s shoulders tense a bit, and Seungwoo can see him bite his lip. 

_Poor kid._ It’s always a little harder when the victims are young.

Seungwoo reaches out to put a hand on Hangyul’s shoulder. Comforting. “I know you’ve already spoken to to the other officers, but I’ll need the story too. I’m here to help find what was stolen from you and your friend.”

“That doesn’t _matter,”_ Hangyul growls again, shifting so Seungwoo’s hand falls off. “He’s _dead.”_ Even though he’s still turned away, Seungwoo can hear the break in his voice and see the tears beginning to fall. 

“It can help find whoever did this. That’s what I’m here to do.” He reaches into his inside pocket to grab his notebook, then digs through another to grab a handkerchief. “But I’ll need your testimony. Can you do that for me?” He holds the handkerchief out towards Hangyul, nudging him a bit. Hangyul turns and looks. His eyes dart from the handkerchief to Seungwoo, then back, before the tension releases from his shoulders and he accepts the handkerchief with a small nod.

That’s good. Seungwoo gives him a soft smile, then picks up his pencil. “Let’s start with what you and your friend were-”

 _“Yohan,”_ Hangyul interrupts, voice cracking again. He bites his lip, then quieter: “His name’s Yohan.”

Seungwoo nods, writing it down. “Yohan. Can you tell me what you and Yohan were doing just before you were attacked?”

“We were walking back from class…We stopped at the corner store to buy a soda. Then we just...left.” Hangyul pauses, then shakes his head. “We hadn’t even walked a block when they jumped out from the alley.”

“Can you describe the people that attacked you?”

“Just a bunch of guys.”

Seungwoo stops scribbling his notes and looks up at Hangyul. “Can you describe any of them? Clothing, height, anything noteworthy?”

“Uh…” Seungwoo lets Hangyul take his time, watching carefully to make sure he is not lying. “They all wore black, and had masks over their mouths and noses,” Hangyul eventually answers. “They were around my height...and I didn’t recognize any of their voices.” 

He sounds truthful, so Seungwoo writes it down. “How many would you say?”

“Five,” Hangyul answers right away. “There were five.”

“Men?”

“Yeah. Or at least my age.”

Seungwoo nods and keeps writing. It’s not a lot to go on. They were smart if they kept their faces covered. “And can you describe the items that were stolen? Wallets?”

“My wallet is just black. Had some cash in it. Yohan’s was red.” Hangyul looks down inside the blanket. “And they took my chain.” 

“What does that look like?”

“A gold chain with a cross. There’s an angel etched in the cross.” Hangyul gives a rough laugh, running a hand through his hair. “My mother gave it to me...”

That is something at least. Seungwoo makes sure he gets that down in his notebook. A golden chain is recognizable. And a group of five men dressed in black would have certainly drawn attention. Seungwoo and Byungchan can probably trace their steps around Yongsan. 

Seungwoo closes his notebook and tucks it back into his jacket. “Thank you, Hangyul,” he says. “We’ll do everything we can to find who did this.” 

Hangyul nods back and runs his hand through his hair again. That’s when Seungwoo notices the gash on his forehead. “Hey, that looks pretty bad,” he says, reaching out to inspect Hangyul’s head. The wound stopped bleeding, but he will probably need stitches. “Want to go to the hospital?” Seungwoo looks at him. “Maybe call someone?”

Hangyul looks down at his hand, then slowly nods. “Yeah…” 

Seungwoo gives another sympathetic smile. “Okay.” 

He helps Hangyul off the ground, making sure the younger is stable enough to walk. When he’s sure Hangyul won’t tumble over, Seungwoo motions to some policemen. “Can you get Mr. Lee here to the ambulance? We’re done with questioning.” One of the officers nods and escorts Hangyul by his waist. “And maybe see if we can get an address or telephone number for his parents,” Seungwoo murmurs to the other cop when Hangyul is a few steps ahead. 

“Can’t believe you got the kid to talk. He kept givin’ me the cold shoulder...” The officer mumbles back, shaking his head.

“Don’t take it personally; Seungwoo’s a natural sweet talker.”

Seungwoo turns to see Byungchan walking towards them, a slick smile on his face. _“Shut up,”_ Seungwoo huffs, smacking Byungchan in the shoulder. The officer just sighs again as we walks away. Once he’s out of ear shot, Seungwoo tilts his head. “What did you find?”

“Nothing. Money can’t be traced, wallets can be burned...” Byungchan sighs and shakes his head. “I think Homicide’s just gonna take the wheel. They already have people locating the vic’s family.”

“What about a gold chain?”

His partner raises an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Lee said a gold chain was stolen from him.” Seungwoo reaches into his pocket, quickly taking out his notebook as he talks. “We can put a word out to the city pawn shops. If we’re lucky, one of the killers is an idiot and will try to sell it.” It’s unlikely, but it’s something that they can do. Seungwoo makes a note to get the addresses from Research and Investigation.

Byungchan sighs again. _“Fine,_ fine. We’ll make some calls back at the station.”

Seungwoo nods back, slapping his notebook shut. “Mind if I take a look around?”

“Be my guest.” Byungchan lets out a wide yawn and stretches his arms over his head. “I’ll wait in the car.” 

“Who’s gonna keep you from napping on the job when I’m gone?” Seungwoo jokes, playfully jabbing his friend in the stomach. Byungchan nearly shrieks, dancing around Seungwoo to get out of hands reach. It has Seungwoo laughing, too. Once Byungchan is walking away, though, Seungwoo turns his attention back to the alley. The Homicide inspectors are still looking at Yohan’s body, so there is a chance they haven’t searched around yet. And that’s how Seungwoo likes it - less tampered. 

Even if Homicide will take this case over, Seungwoo takes the opportunity to walk along the street, eyes monitoring to see if there are any clues. There are so many questions that are running through his mind. Who were the men? Was this a planned or random attack? And even more curious - why kill one, but not the other? Surely it wouldn’t make sense to leave a witness, even if the assailants were wearing masks. 

The ground is smoothed pavement, so there are no traces of footprints. There are a few empty beer bottles and garbage lying around. _Not useful,_ Seungwoo thinks. A few steps later he comes across some broken glass. Not brown, like the beer bottles, but clear. Seungwoo bends down to take a closer look. The glass is fine, shattered in a dozen or so pieces. There doesn’t seem to be any else around, and the pavement beneath them may be wet. Seungwoo takes out his notebook and jots it down. It could be nothing, but maybe one of the attackers dropped it. Maybe it from a pair of glasses. 

He keeps his notebook out as we walks back towards Yohan’s body, and looks over his notes. Byungchan may be right - this may be it for Theft. Not much can be done if what was stolen can’t be traced. And there is nothing worse than when a case runs cold. It’s frustrating, and it has Seungwoo deflating, so much so that he nearly misses a pop of white against the pavement. 

_Strange._ He stops, cocking his head as he bends down to pick up a box of matches on the ground. _The Red Room_ , the box reads, delicately written in red font. Seungwoo looks over to one of the officers. “Excuse me.” The officer looks over, and Seungwoo holds the box of matches up. “You didn’t happen to find a pack of cigarettes on the vic?”

The officer shakes his head. “Nah, nothing.”

“What about his friend?”

“Not that I saw,” the officer replies, now looking at bit confused.

 _Interesting._ “The Red Room. Know where it is?” 

The confusion on the officer’s face changes in an instant. “Of _course,”_ he chuckles, as if he’d been told a joke. “Lot of folks around here know it. It’s a jazz club. Why?”

Seungwoo walks closer to him and shows the box. “Found this near Kim’s body. It’s still clean, so it must have been recently dropped. Maybe our killers go here.” He hands it over to the officer. “I suggest checking it out.”

Now the officer laughs. “Son, any one of the men here could have dropped that box. I don’t think you’ll get too far with that.”

“But-”

“Tell you what-” The officer takes the box of matches from Seungwoo’s hand. “I’ll _personally_ go and ask around The Red Room myself.” He’s still chuckling to himself, and Seungwoo doesn’t seem to get what’s so humorous. This is serious. The Red Room could have answers. 

“Look, I know that-” 

A car horn blasts, and Seungwoo sighs. 

“Let’s go, hotshot!” Byungchan calls from the car. 

  
  


__________

  
  


**Han Residence, Wonhyo Street Apartments, Wonhyo Neighborhood  
** **September 3  
** **7:02 PM**

For a moment, Seungwoo thinks he’s walked into the wrong apartment. “What’s all this?” he calls, momentarily stunned at the amount of food on the table in front of him. 

Eunji pops her head out from the kitchen. “A celebration dinner of course!” Her face is all lit up in a smile. 

It’s more of a feast than a dinner. There is an entire pot of stew and rice, dozens of side dishes nestled around, tteok for dessert, and what looks to be ten pounds of kimchi. It’s entirely too much food for the two of them; but if there’s anything Seungwoo’s learned over the past three years, it is that Eunji goes above and beyond for celebrations.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Seungwoo replies back with a smile of his own, taking his jacket off and hanging it up on the coat rack. 

It has Eunji huffing as she walks from the kitchen over to Seungwoo. “Yes I did. It’s not every day you get a promotion.” 

“You said the same thing when I actually got the job.” 

“And if you keep it up, I’ll make tteok again tomorrow night and you’ll have to buy new pants,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around Seungwoo’s neck. “Let me spoil you, it’s my job.”

“I know,” and he lets his wife kiss him. 

  
  


__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 4  
** **8:29 AM**

“Inspector Lee will see you now.”

Seungwoo gives the secretary a polite nod before taking his hat and walking into Inspector Lee’s office. He is not exactly what Seungwoo thought a  
Senior Homicide Inspector to look like - he’s young, and certainly more handsome than any police officer should be.

“Welcome to Homicide, Seungwoo,” Lee greets, firmly shaking Seungwoo’s hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. You’ve made a name for yourself in this office.”

“It’s an honor, sir,” Seungwoo replies, and it is. Lee Dongwook is one of the most respected Inspectors in the NPA, known for solving Seoul’s most baffling cases and catching the most notorious criminals in Seoul. If Seungwoo is lucky, he will be half the Inspector Lee is. 

“The honor’s mine. It’s about time I got a decorated veteran on this ragtag squad.” Dongwook picks up a stack of files, and motions for Seungwoo to follow him out of the office. “We could use a man with discipline.” He turns to smile at Seungwoo, but it drops when he sees Seungwoo’s face. “Oh, sorry.”

Seungwoo shakes his head, quickly taking the grimace off his face. “My apologies. It’s just...hard to remember.”

“I understand,” Dongwook replies, walking through a set of double doors back out to the main hallway. “I lost friends in the war. That, and the city’s been flooded with refugees and Yankees.” He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a mess out there.” 

“That’s why the city needs us,” Seungwoo says.

A wide smile appears on Dongwoo’s face. “And that’s _exactly_ why you’ve been promoted. We need go-getters like you who aren’t afraid to make waves.” He stops in front of a door, _Briefing Room_ decorated in gold letters on the window. “If you bring that passion to this team, we can make Seoul a better place.”

Seungwoo nods back, and enters the room when Dongwook opens the door. There are six men sitting around, some in chairs, one on the table. They are chatting, and the mood is light. Seungwoo also notices how handsome they all are, and how well dressed. He feels a bit out of place with his five thousand won suit.

“Alright everyone, listen up!” Dongwook calls, and the chatter stops. All of the men turn to took at Dongwook, and sit straighter in their seats. “Let’s give a warm division welcome to our new Inspector, Han Seungwoo.” A few of the men give unenthusiastic claps. Seungwoo stands awkwardly to the side, not knowing what else to do. “Some of you may know Seungwoo’s work. He’s the Inspector that broke the Park’s Conveniance store double murder and robbery.” Dongwook turns to Seungwoo. “You’ll be partnered with Kim Wooseok.” 

_“Oh boy,”_ one of the Inspectors cackles. “Hope you like working, Han. Wooseok sure doesn’t.”

“Shut up, Jinhyuk!” another with a bright smile laughs. He gets up out of his chair and Seungwoo guesses that’s his new partner. “Seungwoo,” he introduces when Wooseok walks up to him.

“Wooseok.” His new partner shakes his hand. He is young looking, maybe younger than Seungwoo. 

“I’ve got a case for you two,” Dongwook says, picking the top file from his stack. “Called in this morning - two bodies found floating in the Han River. Washed up by Hangang Bridge.” He hands the file to Wooseok, then looks to Seungwoo. “Woosoek’s a good inspector. You’ll learn a lot from him.”

“Thanks, Senior.” Wooseok gives a salute, then nudges Seungwoo. “C’mon, Seungwoo. Let’s go solve a murder.”

__________

  
  


**Car heading to Hangang Bridge, Yongsan Side  
** **September 4  
** **9:01 AM**

“So, Seungwoo. What do I need to know about you?” Wooseok asks from the passenger seat as they drive down the highway. 

Seungwoo shrugs. “Don’t know. I’m a pretty boring guy.”

“You solved ten robberies in nine days. I think that’s a little more than boring.”

Seungwoo tries to keep a straight face, but he can’t help but crack a smile. That _was_ a great nine days. “I grew up in Busan,” he eventually answers.

“Oh! A Busan Boy.”

“Yeah. Did some college before the war hit. I was stationed here in Seoul, and never left.” Wooseok points down a road, and Seungwoo turns. “And after the war, I finished college here in the city, got married, and got a job at the station.”

Wooseok whistles. “Family man. No wonder Dongwook likes you.” He points down another road, and Seungwoo follows his lead. 

“No family, just her and I.” A few meters more and Seungwoo can see flashing lights down at the riverbed. He pulls off the highway and onto a dirt road that leads to the bank of the river. “And...that’s about it.” He shrugs again and looks over to Wooseok. “What about you?”

Wooseok shrugs back. “Born in Daejeon but lived in Seoul for most of my life. My whole family has been in law enforcement, so that was my career path from the beginning.” He stretches his arms over his head. “No wife, so I’m what Dongwook calls big trouble.” 

Seungwoo stops a few feet away from the other police cars. “Hope he didn’t pair us up for me to babysit,” he jokes, and it has Wooseok laughing. 

Seungwoo likes Wooseok. He’s glad his partner is someone he can get along with.

The two of them flash their badges to some partolmen when they step out of the car, then over to where a medical examiner and a few other officers are.

“Kim and Han, Homicide,” Wooseok tells the police Captain. 

“We’ve got a good one for you,” the Captain says, nodding them towards the scene. “Two kids, washed up on the shores about two hours ago. Some fishermen found them on their way back from this morning’s catch.”

Seungwoo sighs. Kids again. 

The officer escorts them to where the bodies are. Two boys, pretty tall for their age, and still dressed in their school uniforms. Wooseok swears under his breath.

Seungwoo steps forward first, crouching down above the first boy. “Do we have any I.D.?” he asks.

“None. No wallets, nothing,” the Captain answers. 

Seungwoo nods back. High schoolers wouldn’t have I.D., but it was worth a shot. He looks over to the pathologist. “What’s the cause of death?”

“Drowning, obviously,” he answers, blowing out smoke from his cigarette. “But there may be a few marks along their wrists and necks.”

Seungwoo looks down and tilts the boy’s head, finding the bruises. “Foul play?”

“Most likely.” 

Seungwoo nods again, then goes back up to the boy’s head. His skin is pale, papery; common for a drowning victim. His lips are starting to turn blue from the lack of oxygen, and Seungwoo knows this places his death around a two days ago, especially if the bodies started to float in the river. There aren’t any other injuries to his face or head, just the bruises around his neck. 

Further down, Seungwoo opens the boy’s jacket - no visible injuries to the abdomen either. Seungwoo closes the jacket, looking at the symbol on the uniform. Seoul Osan High School. “Put out a call to this high school. They’ll be missing two students,” he tells the Captain. He stands up, taking out his notebook. “And I want their addresses as soon as possible.”

“Already on it,” the Captain replies. “We sent a patrolman up as soon as we saw the uniforms. We should hear back soon.”

“I suppose the river would have washed any evidence away,” Wooseok comments. He’s over the second boy, reaching into his pockets. 

The Captain sighs.“Most likely. If the boys were there for longer than a day, anything may have sank or been taken out to sea.”

Seungwoo jots everything down in his notebook. Once they get an I.D. on the bodies, they can start looking for more clues. 

“Hey, Seungwoo.”

Seungwoo looks over to Wooseok, whose hand is in the boy’s pocket. He pulls out his fist, and opens it. “Glass,” he says. Seungwoo walks over and looks - it’s clear, broken in to small pieces.

“Glasses?” Seungwoo asks.

Wooseok shakes his head. “Not from what I can see. Unless they washed away.”

Seungwoo nods again and writes that down. “Let’s get that to Technical Services.”

“Think they can do much with it?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Seungwoo answers. Once he’s done writing, he puts his notebook back in his jacket pocket. He turns back to the pathologist. “I’d like a full copy of the autopsy report.”

“Will do,” the pathologist answers, and motions to a few officers to start carrying the bodies away. 

“You don’t waste any time,” Wooseok laugh, taking out a plastic bag and dumping the glass inside. “You’ve made yourself right at home. You’re gonna do great here.”

Seungwoo gives a shy smile, but it turns down when he sees a car pull up to the scene. A young officer gets out and walks up to the Captain. “That may be our I.D.,” he says, and walks over. 

The Captain nods his head to the officer, then turns to Seungwoo. “We got names and addresses.” 

“Please tell me they’re brothers who live in the same apartment,” Wooseok pleads, still crouched down by the bodies.

The Captain shakes his head. “They’re Cha Junho and Kang Minhee.”

  
  


__________

  
  


**Kang Residence, Seobinggo Street, Seobinggo Neighborhood  
** **September 4  
** **11:14 AM**

“Again, we’re so sorry for your loss, ma’am.” Seungwoo holds out another tissue, and Minhee’s mother takes it. She’s sobbing in the arms of her husband, who’s crying as well. 

“W-why would anyone want to kill our son?” Minhee’s father asks, his voice breaking when he says _kill._

“We can’t say for sure yet, sir,” Wooseok replies. He’s standing next to where the Kangs are sitting on their couch. “But that’s why we’re here.” 

He looks over to Seungwoo, who nods back, then says softly, “I know this is difficult, but we’ll need to ask you some questions about your son.”

Minhee’s mother sobs harder, and Seungwoo knows she is too upset for questioning. He looks over at his father. While his face is streamed with tears, he nods. That’s good. Seungwoo was worried they would leave without any information. He takes out his notebook, opening to the case. “When did you last see him?”

“Two nights ago,” Minhee’s father answers. His voice is still shaking. “He said he was staying at a friend’s home.”

“Cha Junho?” Wooseok asks.

The father looks at Wooseok. “No…” he says slowly. “Never heard of him.”

 _Odd._ Seungwoo writes that down. “Do you know who he was with?” 

“I...don’t think he ever said.”

Wooseok walks around the living room, looking at some pictures on the wall. “Was there any signs of bullying in school?” He turns back to the family. “Or did Minhee ever speak of someone who may hurt him?”

 _“No,_ God no,” the mother cries. She sniffles, lifting her head up from her husband’s chest. “Minhee was a good student, had friends…he was the best son anyone could ask for.” She starts sobbing again as she finishes her sentence.

Seungwoo puts down his pencil and gives her yet another tissue. “Did he show any unusual behavior? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Minhee’s father answers. “Just a bit stressed from classes. He is - _was_ -” His voice cracks. “-preparing for college exams. He went to class, to his after school program, then home.”

“Where was the after school program?”

“Next to the high school.”

Seungwoo writes that down as a place to check next. After a few more notes, he closes his notebook. “May we look in his room?” he asks. Minhee’s father nods.

Once they walk out of the living room and out of earshot, Wooseok turns to Seungwoo. “What do you think?” 

Seungwoo walks into Minhee’s room, then closes the door behind them. “Strange his body was found with Cha Junho’s, yet his parents never heard of him.”

Wooseok shrugs back. “Well, maybe Junho’s parents will know more.”

Seungwoo sighs, then turns his attention to the room. It’s always sombering walking into a room of someone who’s recently died. It is as if time stands still, as if the person any second now will come back to their room. There is a plate of half eaten food sitting on a small desk, an alarm clock waiting to be wound for the next morning. The bed is unmade, pajamas are thrown on the ground, an open book is on a dresser next to the bed. 

“I’ll start over here,” Wooseok says, motioning to the closet.

Seungwoo starts by the bed. He checks under the covers, in the pillows. There’s nothing but books and dust under the bed. The dressers just have clothing in them, and nothing behind. Even the desk is clean - nothing but pencils and erasers.

“Nothing,” Seungwoo sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Wooseok steps away from the closet and huffs. “Well, when you were seventeen, where did you hide things?”

“I was going to say under the bed but…” Seungwoo bites his lip. If Minhee had anything to hide, where would it be. He was smart - judging from the biology books on his desk. Where do clever boys hide things if they had secrets? 

He looks around the room again, eyes landing on a basket of laundry. The shirts and pants are neatly ironed with patient folds, opposite of the stack of underwear haphazardly thrown in the basket. 

Minhee’s mother didn’t fold his underwear. 

“You hide things where your mother won’t look,” Seungwoo says, and he goes to the dresser next to Minhee’s bed. He opens the top drawer, filled with underwear and socks, and reaches in, searching. His fingers hit something sturdy among the socks, and Seungwoo gently pulls it out and shows Wooseok. 

Wooseok blinks. “A _syringe?_ What would a kid need a syringe for?”

Seungwoo turns the syringe in his hand. It’s small, about six inches long, made of a light glass. It’s empty, no liquid inside, and the glass vile is bare of any markings. 

“That looks like the glass I found in his pocket earlier,” Wooseok continues, a bit dazed.

“He didn't have any medical illnesses, right?” 

“Not that we know of,” Wooseok answers. “I’ll ask the parents.”

Seungwoo nods. “And I’ll get this to Technical Services.” 

Wooseok nods back, then leaves the room and heads to the living area. Seungwoo takes out a bag from his jacket and puts the syringe in. Hopefully TS will be able to identify where the syringe came from. He takes out his notebook and flips to the case. 

Hopefully, this will be the break they need.

  
  


__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 4  
** **8:26 PM**

“Han!”

Seungwoo jerks, dropping his pencil on the desk. He looks up and sees one of the Inspectors - Jinhyuk, he thinks - giving him a wicked smile. “Clean it up! We’re going out!” 

He blinks. “Out?”

“It’s closing time, and that means drinks for the rookie!” Jinhyuk replies. 

Seungwoo can hear the other inspectors chattering in the hallways. “I was going to wait to hear back from TS about the syringe and glass Wooseok and I found.” 

Said partner pops his head on Jinhyuk’s shoulder. “C’mon, Seungwoo! We’re buying you drinks for your first night.” He’s tapping his foot expectantly. 

“Thanks for the offer,” Seungwoo replies, giving them a smile. “But I really should be getting home.” Going out for a drink does sound fun, but Eunji will be waiting up for him and will worry if he’s home any later than ten. 

Wooseok rolls his eyes, looking at Jinhyuk while mumbling, “He’s got a wife.” He turns back to Seungwoo. “Look, I’m buying you a drink, whether you’re there or not.”

“We’ll be home before midnight!” another office, Sejin, calls. He plops a hat on Jinhyuk’s head. “Just call your wife and tell her you’ll be home late.”

“If you come with us, I’ll do your processing,” Jinhyuk tosses out. It has Wooseok snorting.

Seungwoo looks down at the pile of papers on his desk, each one needing to be filled out in triplicate and filed away among the hundreds of filing cabinets. 

It takes him five seconds before he’s moving out of his chair. 

  
  


__________

  
  


**Yongsan Street, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 4  
** **9:07 PM**

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Seungwoo mumbles, trying to keep up with Jinhyuk’s long strides. 

“Our favorite watering hole,” Sejin answers, bumping Seungwoo on the shoulders. 

Next to him, Wooseok scowls. “It won’t be our favorite for long if the god damn Yankees keep showing up.” He motions over to where a group of Americans are standing on the sidewalk, smoking cigarettes and throwing their heads back in laughter. 

Seungwoo frowns. “How close are we to the base?” 

“You’re _in_ it,” Wooseok sneers. “Technically this is Yankee property we’re on.” He huffs, but then swings his arm over Seungwoo’s shoulders. “But don’t worry about that!” He smiles, extending an arm out. “Worry about having too much fun at the one good things the Yankees brought with them!” 

Seungwoo snorts, following his partner’s arm to the flashing red lights above the sidewalk.

_The Red Room._

Seungwoo stops. _“That’s_ where we’re going?” 

Wooseok frowns. “Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“My last case with Theft. I found a matchbox from here and-”

“Nope!” Jinhyuk shouts, coming up behind Seungwoo and pushing him towards the entrance. “Here at The Red Room, we are officially off duty. No police talk”

“But-”

He’s pushed through the entrance and into the lobby. From the ceiling to the floor, the room is red, with gold lights on the walls. It looks like the inside of a hotel, and Seungwoo feels out of place.

“Sunho!” Jinhyuk shouts again. He’s waving at a tall man standing behind the maitre d podium. Seungwoo wonders if everyone he’s going to meet as Homicide Inspector is going to look like a movie star. Sunho has long legs and a handsome face, well dressed in a white suit jacket and black slacks.

“Welcome back, gentlemen,” Sunho greets. His eyes sweeps the group, before landing on Seungwoo. “Oh, and who’s this?”

“New Inspector, Seungwoo,” Wooseok introduces, pushing Seungwoo forward. “Treat him right, you hear?”

Sunho smiles. “Of course. Your usual table?”

“Please.” Jinhyuk motions to the door behind Sunho. “Are the girls backstage?”

“Yes. I can let them know you’re here.” 

Jinhyuk nods, then turns to Seungwoo. “Just wait until you meet them, Han.” His smile reminds Seungwoo of a shark. _“Gorgeous.”_

Seungwoo’s stomach sinks. 

“I-I don’t think-”

He can’t even finish before Wooseok is dragging him along, through decorated red doors and onto the club floor. The club is much larger than Seugnwoo thought - a wide open space, fitting two full bars on either side of the room, dozens of tables, and large dance floor. On stage, a band is playing an upbeat song - jazz. Seungwoo has never heard jazz in person, only through the radios. It’s still so knew in Korea, only recently brought over by the American soldiers. 

“This way, Han,” Jinhyuk says, pointing to a door next to the stage. “We get the VIP treatment here.”

Sunho is a few steps ahead of their group. He uses a key to get into the door, letting them walk in first. “You know the way,” he calls to Sejin who’s in front. Sejin laughs, comfortably walking ahead through the backstage hallways. A few staff members even greet them like old friends, and Seungwoo finds himself holding his breath until they reach a door with Dressing Room written across it. 

Sunho steps forward now, giving a curt knock and peeking his head in. “You have visitors,” he says inside, then waves the group in.

Seungwoo tries to take a step back, but he only walks into Wooseok who moves forward. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, pushing Seungwoo inside.

It’s a small dressing room, but there a dozen people inside. Most are women, lounging on chairs and makeup tables. They're laughing with cigarettes hanging come their lips and drinks in hand. 

“There they are!” one of them calls from the sofa. She’s positively the fiercest woman Seungwoo has ever seen - dark makeup, tight evening gown, and a gaze that leaves him breathless in fear.

“Hyejin!” Sejin smiles, hopping over to the couch and squeezing himself next to her. “How’s my favorite girl doing?” 

Hyejin smirks, holding out a cigarette for Sejin to try. “Same old. Happy to see you boys here.” Her gaze eventually lands on Seungwoo, and he freezes. She doesn’t ask for his name, just looks him up and down, before catching his eyes again. “Hi there,” she purrs, right as Sejin puts a hand on her knee, only thin material separating their skin. 

Seungwoo swallows. “H-hello,” he says back. 

A few feet over, Jinhyuk settles himself between two other women, wrapping an arm around both and pulling them close. One hand gets dangerously close to one of the woman's bosom.

He wants to leave. 

“Don’t scare the rookie!” Wooseok calls. He’s sitting on a chair with a giggling woman in his lap. He sends a smile to Seungwoo. “Your wife isn’t going to know you spent some time around the ladies.”

That’s not why Seungwoo feels sick in his stomach. 

Sunho chuckles. “The show starts in ten minutes anyway.” He walks up next to Seungwoo and puts a hand on his shoulder, then says lowly, “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll find you a table?” 

Seungwoo feels his shoulders drop. _“Thank you,”_ he sighs, trying to keep his voice low so no one can hear him. His colleagues look busy though, so it’s easy to sneak back out the door and follow Sunho to the floor. 

“A bit of a handful, those three. But they’re harmless,” Sunho comments as he leads Seungwoo to the bar. When they get there, Sunho leans over and calls, “Hyeonsu, can you get this man here a drink?” The bartender nods, and Sunho clasps his hand on Seungwoo’s back. “I’ll go get that table.”

Seungwoo gives him an appreciative smile back. When Sunho walks away, he orders a bottle of soju from the bartender. He’ll need it if he’s going to survive the night. He has half a mind to make a run for it, find a taxi and go home, but he figures Woosoek wouldn’t like that very much. If there is one thing he knows, it’s that trust and alliances can be just as powerful as bullets. He shouldn’t be angering his partner on his first day. 

The bartender sets down the shot glass and pours the drink, and Seungwoo is about to grab it when the lights dim. “Show’s about to start,” the bartender tells him. Seungwoo gives a flat smile, but stays facing the bar. He’s not interested in watching women on stage. He’ll listen, if the music is pleasant. 

But there is something else on his mind. “Excuse me,” he calls before the bartender turns around to another couple. “You wouldn’t know anyone by the name of Kim Yohan or Lee Hangyul, would you?”

The bartender purses his lips, thoughtful. “Can’t say I do.” He shrugs. “They’re not regulars if I have met them.”

It was worth the try. Yohan and Hangyul are too young to get into a jazz club anyway. 

_“Ladies and gentlemen,”_ a smooth voice purrs from the speakers surrounding the lunge. _“Welcome to the Red Room.”_

“Enjoy the show,” the bartender says before walking away.

Seungwoo sighs to himself and takes the shot, tapping his nails against the bar. The band behind him starts up, playing a slow, sultry number, and the patrons around the club start cheering. This must mean that the others will be back from the women’s room soon. 

Seungwoo pours himself another shot. 

The piano starts above the bass and saxophone, airy compared to the dark tune. It’s a surprising musical choice; a bright whisper over a sullen tone. Seungwoo has never heard it in jazz music before. It’s interesting, especially when the vocals come in and-

That is not a woman singing.

Seungwoo can’t help but turn his head to the stage, surprised. He didn’t know men sang in jazz clubs. Usually they were women, like Hyejin; raspy voices with warm undertones, not men, not like- 

Seungwoo’s throat goes dry. 

The stage is lit by a red light, highlighting the man singing at the microphone. His face is partially hidden under the tipped brim of his hat, but Seungwoo can make out a pale skin and soft lips, black hair that brushes just underneath a sharp jaw. He’s swaying to the song, hands caressing up the microphone as he sings in a soft, bright tone. He sounds like the piano - surprising against the deep brass, but just as sensual.

Seungwoo can’t look away.

The singer’s hands slide back down the microphone and rolls his hips around. It’s a lewd gesture, but it has the club cheering. Seungwoo can see a smirk appear on the man’s lips, and he tips his head back, a hand coming to keep his hat on his head. When he comes back up, the hat is moved and his closed eyes are visible, lined in dark makeup.

When they open, he’s starting right across from him, right at Seungwoo, with predatory eyes, dark and wild and full of promises. 

Seungwoo can’t look away.

“Hey!”

Seungwoo startles, spilling some of his shot on the floor. Wooseok laughs a bit, slapping him on the back. “Easy there! Didn’t mean to surprise you.” He motions behind him. “We got our table.”

“O-oh,” Seungwoo replies, putting his glass down and wiping his hand on a bar napkin. He’s a bit disoriented now. “Let me j-just get-” He picks up his bottle and the glass again with shaky hands. He turns back around and the singer looking away, down at the stage. He’s biting his lips together, and his shoulders are tightly shaking. 

Is he... _laughing?_

Seungwoo feels his face flush. He must have seen Seungwoo spill his drink. 

As they make their way to the table, Seungwoo hides behind Wooseok, trying to stay out of the singer’s gaze. “W-who’s that?” he asks his partner before they get to the table. 

Wooseok gives him a confused look before turning to where Seungwoo’s looking. _“Ah,”_ he says. “That’s Cho Seungyoun. One of the singers.” He turns back to Seungwoo, a sour look on his face. “A rat with good hair.”

_Seungyoun._

Their table is on the floor, close to the stage. Sejin and Jinhyuk are already there, yelling something at them, but Seungwoo can only watch Seungyoun on stage as he finishes his song. The band stops playing and only his voice remains, ringing through the walls of the club until it’s only a whisper, then nothing. The silence lasts a few seconds before the club erupts into cheers. 

Seungyoun tips his hat and bows, turning around the stage to hit every angle of the club. He pauses for a moment when he faces Seungwoo’s table, waiting until he meets Seungwoo’s eye before bowing. When he comes back up, the smirk is back on his lips.

Seungwoo feels his throat dry again.


	2. Act II

**Act II**

**_There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable._ **

**Mark Twain**

  
  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 12  
** **9:14 PM**

“Thank _God,”_ Jinhyuk moans, stretching his arms above his head when he gets out of the car. He throws his hat on the passenger's seat, then raises his arms in praise at _The Red Room_ ’s sign. “It’s been too long.”

“You say that like we haven’t been here every day for the past week,” Sejin laughs, getting out of the driver’s seat. 

Seungwoo and Wooseok follow out of the back. Wooseok laughs at Sejin’s comment, while Seungwoo just chokes a bit. Has he really spent every night at the club? He counts the days back in his head...minus Sunday, his off day...

“Hey.”

He looks over to Wooseok, who is smirking over the car roof. “Told you you’d like it here.”

Seungwoo supposes that answers his question. 

He coughs. “I’m only here because Jinhyuk keeps promising to do my paperwork,” Seungwoo grumbles, putting his hat on his head. It’s mainly the truth.

There is just one other reason he keeps coming back.

The group greets Sunho, who already has their table ready. Seungwoo is two steps into the club when Jinhyuk nudges him to the bar. He gets the hint - newbie gets the drinks for the table. It apparently is the precinct rules, words to live and die by. Seungwoo doesn’t complain, just does as he’s told, and walks up to the bar. “Hi, Hyeonsu.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Han,” Hyeonsu greets, already reaching for the soju bottles. “You’re becoming quite the regular.” There must be some kind of panic on Seungwoo’s face, because Hyeonsu laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, happens to the best of us.”

Seungwoo gives a nervous laugh back. He may be getting himself into trouble. 

“Put those on my tab, Hyeonsu.” 

Seungwoo freezes.

Hyeonsu raises an eyebrow to the voice behind Seungwoo’s shoulders, but shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

Seungwoo doesn’t move, even when the light voice walks up to the bar next to him. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches Seungwoo, like he’s watching his prey. And all Seungwoo can do is slowly turn to face him.

He may have stopped breathing.

 _“Hi,”_ Seungyoun purrs, turning to lean back against the bar.

Seungwoo seems to have forgotten how to speak.

After a few more seconds of silence, Seungyoun raises an eyebrow. “So do I finally get your name, or are you just gonna stare at me like you’ve been doing this past week?”

Twenty eight years of Korean, gone. 

Seungyoun doesn’t say anything else. He just continues to look at Seungwoo with an amused expression, scanning him from head to toe, and Seungwoo suddenly feels self conscious. He’s in one of his duller suits, nothing like the sharp blue suit Seungyoun is wearing that is a little too tight to be fashionable, and he must be staring; Seungyoun turns his body so the suit pulls tighter, especially in the hips. 

Seungwoo thinks he’s sees the outline of Seungyoun’s _lower extremities_ and all of a sudden remembers how to speak. “S-seungwoo,” he chokes out, turning his attention to the bottles and glasses Hyseonsu placed on the bar. “Han Seungwoo.”

“Han Seungwoo…” Seungyoun repeats, and Seungwoo’s name has never sounded as melodic. A smirk appears on Seungyoun’s lips, widening when he looks back down at Seungwoo suit. _“Inspector_ Han Seungwoo.” 

His tone has Seungwoo gulping, and he follows Seungyoun’s gaze to where his badge is clipped to his belt. “Y-yeah,” he smartly replies. “Just started.”

“Ah, I knew I hadn’t seen you before. I know your coworkers very well, but I didn’t think I knew you.” The inviting smile stays on Seungyoun’s lips as he reaches over and takes one of the bottles and opens it. “I would have remembered a face like yours.” 

Seungwoo chokes. 

If Seungyoun notices, he doesn’t react. Instead, he pours a shot and holds it out to Seungwoo. “Congratulations on the new position, Inspector.”

Seungwoo blinks, looking back and forth between Seungyoun and the glass. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize he’s being offered the drink, and he quickly takes the glass with shaking hands and downs the shot. The alcohol burns against his throat, but for once Seungwoo, does not mind the sting. It burns some nerves out of Seungwoo’s system. 

“Are you always so eloquent?” Seungyoun teases, a slight laugh in his voice. 

“I-I’ve just had a long day,” is Seungwoo’s excuse. Which, is true. He and Wooseok had a run in with some armed robbers that sent them on a chase around Seoul. That, and he’s heard nothing back about Cha Junho and Kang Minhee’s case. Their leads have run dry. All he can hope for is Technical Services to find something about the syringe. 

Seungyoun gives him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure. Seoul’s become a dangerous place. We need young officers like yourself to keep criminals off the street.” He runs a hand through his hair, combing it off to the side, then gives Seungwoo a coquettish smile. “I hope you’re being treated right.”

He gulps. “I-I am.” 

“Good.” Seungyoun tilts his neck and it’s incredibly distracting. “If they weren’t, you let me know.” He licks his lips. _“I’ll_ take good care of you.” 

Seungwoo almost drops the soju glass.

It’s almost laughable - Seungwoo has had guns pointed in his face and men hold knives to his throat, but this man holds nothing but a pretty smirk on his lips, and Seungwoo has never felt more afraid.

He _does_ drop the glass when a strong hand slaps his back.

“We’re waiting for you!” Wooseok laughs, grabbing the glass that fell on the bar. The smile falls from Wooseok’s lips when he looks over and sees Seungwoo’s company. “Oh.” He straightens up and sniffs. _“Seungyoun.”_

 _“Wooseok,”_ Seungyoun says back, tone still playful. 

“Surprised the pound let you out.”

“Only when I’ve been good,” Seungyoun replies back, not the least bit offended. In fact, he sends Seungwoo a wink. 

Seungwoo’s face heats up.

“Anyway…” Wooseok mumbles, taking the rest of the soju bottles and glasses from the bar. “You nearly missed all of Hyejin’s set!”

“Oh.” Seungwoo didn’t even realize Hyejin was performing. He cranes his neck and sees her on stage in a daring red outfit, and Sejin and Jinhyuk cheering for her at their table. 

Wooseok pulls on Seungwoo’s jacket sleeve. “C’mon, sit with us for the last song.” He gives a knowing smile. “We’re heading backstage after.”

That makes Seungwoo pull away. “No, thanks,” he says, shaking his head. 

Wooseok pouts. “C’mon, Seungwoo! Your wife won’t care if you’re chatting with the girls.”

For some reason, the mention of Eunji has Seungwoo cringing. He can feel Seungyoun’s gaze fall to his left hand, to his wedding band, and Seungwoo stuffs his hand in his jacket pocket. “I-I’d rather watch Seungyoun’s performance,” he tells Wooseok, shaking his head. 

It’s an honest answer - he’d rather watch Seungyoun than go backstage and sit off in a corner, politely refusing cigarettes and drinks from the women. But as soon as he says it, he realizes how it sounds. Panic blossoms in his chest, and he starts stuttering out a rebuttal, but Wooseok just rolls his eyes. _“Fine,”_ he groans, pulling Seungwoo along back to the table. 

Seungwoo starts to protest, sputtering out nonsense and looking back at Seungyoun. The singer has the smirk back on his face, still looking amused as Seungwoo’s pulled away. When he sees Seungwoo staring back at him, he winks again, and Seungwoo knows he’s in trouble.

  
  


__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 14  
** **7:59 AM**

“Seungwoo!”

Seungwoo pauses, hand still reaching for the briefing room door knob. “Yeah?” he calls back, not exactly sure which hallway the voice came from. He eventually sees Yuvin from Technical Services waving at him, power walking past some officers. 

“Got some updates on the Cha/Kang case,” he huffs when he makes it to Seungwoo. He holds out a file. “The glass in Kang’s pocket. We pieced it together. It was another syringe.”

Seungwoo frowns and takes the file, looking at the papers inside. “Any idea what was in it?”

“Not yet,” Yuvin sighs. “We’ll ask around some pharmacies and see if they recognize the syringe. But don’t hold your breath-” Yuvin takes the file back from Seungwoo. “-any serial numbers or identifiers have been scraped off.”

_Damn._

“Oh, and nothing new from the autopsy. Water in the lungs, some bruising along the necks and wrists.” Yuvin deflates, frowning. “Sorry, not much else.”

Seungwoo frowns as well. There goes his hopes of a new lead. “Well, hopefully those pharmacies-”

The briefing room door swings open, and Wooseok rushes out, nearly colliding with Seungwoo. _“Shit,_ what the-” He blinks up at Seungwoo. “Oh good, it’s you.” He grabs Seungwoo by the arm and pulls him to the exit. 

“W-wait a second-”

“They found a body at the entrance of the army base. We’re needed.”

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Garrison Army Base, Entrance  
** **September 14  
** **8:41 AM**

“Christ, can’t the press take a hint,” Wooseok growls as they step out of the car. There is a dozen or so men with large cameras, trying to snap photos around the officers blocking the scene. A small crowd has also formed, with curious passersby wondering what the fuss was about. 

Seungwoo sighs. “The vic’s American. What did you expect?” Any time a crime involves one of the Americans, the city closely watches. Whether out of fear or out of disdain, Seungwoo doesn’t know. 

They weave their way through the crowd and show their badges to the officers. Seungwoo tries as best he can to cover his face from the photographers. The last thing he wants is for his face to be on the front cover of some newspaper. Wooseok, though, gives a small wave to the crowd. “May as well give good face,” he says to Seungwoo once they’re through the perimeter. 

“Easy to say when someone looks like you.”

 _“Hey,”_ Wooseok coos, throwing an arm around Seungwoo’s shoulders. “You’re quite a looker, too. I bet you had dames falling _all_ over you before you got hitched.”

That couldn’t be farther from the truth, and it has Seungwoo snorting. 

The entrance to the base is a massive door, surrounded by steel walls. Seungwoo expected the murder to take place inside the walls, but the entire road has been blocked off - it must have happened outside. Which would make sense - they have jurisdiction over what happens on Korean roads. They wouldn’t have been called in if this happened inside. 

There is a group of Korean policemen standing around, looking a bit lost. One of them is easy recognizable. Seungwoo knows the back of that head. 

He smiles. “This way,” he nudges Wooseok. Once he’s behind Byungchan, he kicks his shoe. “Why don’t you leave this to the professionals?”

Byungchan laughs before he even turns around. “I should have known they’d send you,” he chuckles, playfully pushing Seungwoo’s shoulder. He rolls his eyes, then looks to Wooseok. “Choi Byungchan, Theft. This idiot’s former partner.”

Wooseok shakes his hand with a smile. “Kim Wooseok. The idiot’s current partner.”

“Funny,” Seungwoo says, kicking both of their shoes. He looks back up to Byungchan. “Why’s theft here?”

“Apparently there was a murder and a robbery, but...” He motions to where a group of Inspectors and American Army men are standing, waving their hands. “No one here speaks English. And none of _them_ speak Korean.” 

Seungwoo blinks. “Tell me you’re joking.” 

“The body’s over there.” Byungchan points to where some crates are stacked against the wall. Seungwoo sees legs and shoes sticking out from the other side of a crate. “They’re letting us by the body, but good luck trying to get anything else.”

“Unbelievable…” Seungwoo groans, running a hand down his face. He looks at Wooseok. “You don’t happen to be fluent in English, would you?”

“Not to save my life,” Wooseok replies. He’s reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. 

_Perfect._

Byungchan shrugs. “Well, may as well look at the body.”

That’s the only thing Seungwoo and Wooseok _can_ do if no one can communicate with any witnesses. It has Seungwoo sighing, but he moves towards the body. 

Wooseok, though, lights his cigarette and stops, looking at the crowd. “Actually…” he says, squinting. He puts a hand on Seungwoo’s arm. “I think I know someone who can help.” He starts walking away, back to the perimeter. “I’ll meet you over at the vic!”

Strange. Seungwoo has no idea what has Wooseok in a brighter mood. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, since Byungchan walks up next to him. “Mind if I join you?”

Seungwoo gives an appreciative smile, and continues walking. 

“So, how’s it been?” Byungchan asks. 

“Busy. But you knew that.” It’s hard to believe it’s been over two weeks since Seungwoo’s been promoted. The days have gone by so fast. 

Byungchan hums. “Your partner is quite the charmer.”

Seungwoo snorts. “He’s something else.” 

He flashes his badge at the American officer standing by the body. _“Inspector,”_ Seungwoo tells him in English. It passes the test, and the officer waves him towards the body. 

The victim’s American; one of the soldiers. He’s still in uniform. Seungwoo looks at eye level and sees blood spattered against the wall, dried now. He crouches down to the body propped up against the wall. A quick look tells Seungwoo a single bullet to the head killed this man. He most likely was standing up, shot against the wall and slid down to where he is now. He takes his notebook out and writes that down.

“How’s Eunji?”

“Good,” Seungwoo answers. He uses his pencil to take a closer look at the bullet wound. Looks like a standard revolver. He makes a note in his notebook to have TS get an exact model. “She wants you over for dinner one night.”

“Excellent.” After a few seconds, Seungwoo feels a kick to his shoe. “How have _you_ been?”

“Fine.”

Byungchan sighs. _“Just_ fine?”

Seungwoo doesn’t need this right now. What he needs is someone who is able to speak English and figure out if there's a witness to share what he knows and-

He looks up from the body and nearly chokes. 

Byungchan frowns and follows his stare. “What the…”

Wooseok is walking back with Seungyoun. 

_The Red Room’s_ Seungyoun. 

_What is Wooseok doing._

“We’ve got ourselves a translator,” said partner smiles, looking pleased with himself. 

Seungwoo straightens up, slamming his notebook close and nearly dropping his pencil. “Uh-”

“My good friend Seungyoun is pretty good at English,” Wooseok continues, putting a hand on Seungyoun’s shoulder. 

Seungyoun rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. “I live close to the base and picked up a lot.” He shrugs. “Good for business, y’know?”

Seungwoo’s not sure what Seungyoun means by that, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before Byungchan is walking up next to him. “Well, what do you think?” he asks Seungwoo.

Wooseok doesn’t wait for Seungwoo to answer before he’s walking Seungyoun over to the guard by the body. “Ask him if there were any witnesses.”

“H-hold on-” Seungwoo starts, but stops himself when Seungyoun speaks to the guard in what sounds like passable English. The guard himself is surprised, eyes going wide as he stutters out an answer. He points over to where some American men are standing. 

Seungyoun nods and gives him a _Thank you,_ then turns to Seungwoo and Wooseok. “He says someone by the name of Leo Jessop called the murder in. He was there.” Seungyoun turns back to the officer and says something else that has the officer moving over to where the group is. “He’s going to get him.”

Seungwoo feels a bit dazed, not exactly sure what’s going on. “Uh…” he starts again. “Where did you…” He looks back at the crowd, then to Seungyoun. “Come from?”

Seungyoun looks a bit amused. “I was on my way to the club.” He motions in the direction of The Red Room. “I saw the crowd and was curious.” He shrugs. “Guess it was a good thing I did.”

“Yeah it is,” Wooseok replies, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

Byungchan is frowning. “Club?” 

_Shit._

Seungyoun gives him a smile and looks like he is about to reply, but God is on Seungwoo’s side as the officer comes back with a young man. The officer tells Seungyoun something, and Seungyoun nods back. “This is Leo,” he tells their group. “He’ll answer questions about what happened last night.” He looks at Seungwoo, down at his hands, then back up to meet his eyes. “Are you going to write this down?”

Right. 

Seungwoo opens his notebook again, hoping he’s not shaking like he thinks he is. He’s not even going to look at Byungchan. “C-can you have him write his name down?” he ask Seungyoun. 

Seungyoun takes the notebook and gives it to Leo. 

“Can you ask him about the victim?” Wooseok starts. “Name, age, job?”

Seungyoun nods and turns to Leo, speaking. He waits until Leo is done before leaning in to Seungwoo. “The victim’s name is Roger Nero, twenty eight. He’s a soldier here at the base.” 

Leo gives the notebook back and Seungwoo takes it. Seungyoun peaks over, pointing to the first name. “That’s Leo Jessop-” He moves to the second. “Roger Nero.” Seungwoo nods and writes their pronunciations in Korean. 

Wooseok nods as well. “Can Leo describe what happened? As best he can.”

Seungyoun asks, and Leo responds. Seungwoo tries his hardest to focus on Leo, watching his face as he speaks to make sure he is not lying. It’s difficult though, because his gaze keeps finding its way back to Seungyoun, marveling at how he’s conversing in English. 

“He says he was on duty in the early morning and heard voices outside of the base walls,” Seungyoun translates. He says something in English, which Leo answers. “He looked outside but couldn’t see anyone.” Leo says something again, which has Seungyoun frowning. They converse for a few seconds, before Leo points to the crates. Seungyoun’s eyes light up. “Ah, he couldn’t see anything because Roger and the person he was talking to were hidden behind the crates.” 

Seungwoo’s scribbling it all down. “Then what?”

Seungyoun asks, and Leo brings his hand up like a gun and goes _Bang._

Seungwoo doesn’t need a translation for that. “Could he hear what they were talking about?” He watches as Leo answers, sighing when he sees the man shakes his head.

“He says he could only hear Nero speak in English. But it sounded like they were arguing over something.”

Seungwoo writes it down, then looks at Wooseok. “So Nero was talking to someone, hidden behind the crates.” He turns to face the crates and body. “And the conversation did not end well.” Interesting that Nero had to be outside for this conversation, and not in the base. The person must not have been part of the American military. He turns back to Seungyoun. “Can you ask him if Nero was supposed to be out?”

Seungyoun asks, then translates, “No, it wasn’t his shift. He shouldn’t have been outside the base.” 

“So he purposely hid behind the crates,” Wooseok comments. “He wanted to keep a low cover.”

Seungwoo nods along. “Whoever he was talking to, he didn’t want anyone to see.”

Wooseok takes another drag of his cigarette. “We need to talk to people he knew. See if he had any enemies.”

That has Byungchan snorting. “He’s a _Yankee,_ he has 1.4 million enemies.” 

It has Seungwoo snorting, too. The entire Korean population of Seoul _would_ consider Nero an enemy. 

Leo says something, sounding angry. Seungyoun nudges Seungwoo. “He wants to know if he’s done.”

“Tell him yes, but we may need to talk to him later.”

Seungyoun nods and tells Leo. The American nods and leaves, mumbling something that has Seungyoun chuckling. “What?” Seungwoo asks. 

_“Oh, nothing,”_ Seungyoun sings back, still chuckling. 

Seungwoo frowns, but doesn’t dwell too long about it because Byungchan is patting him on the shoulder. “Mind if I steal your translator for a few minutes?” he asks, motioning to Seungyoun. “I need to ask about the robbery.”

Seungwoo looks over to Seungyoun, who shrugs. “I’m free for a while.”

Byungchan beams. “Let me grab the rest of the team.”

As he walks off, Wooseok drops his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out. “You can stay with him. I’ll start combing for evidence,” he says to Seungwoo. He gives a sarcastic tip of his hat to Seungyoun before walking back to the crime scene perimeter. 

That leaves Seungwoo and Seungyoun alone.

Seungyoun realizes it too, because the cat-like grin is back on his face, and Seungwoo becomes very interested in looking over his notes in his notebook.

“Do I frighten you that much?” Seungyoun laughs, shaking his head.

Seungwoo looks up from his notebook. “Yes,” he answers honestly. 

That makes Seungyoun’s grin wider. “And what about little old _me_ would frighten an Inspector like yourself?” 

“A lot,” Seungwoo admits, even if he partially says it under his breath. He could pick and choose anything about Seungyoun and it would frighten him: his confidence, his presence, his smile, his eyes that just seem to see through you. Even now, just standing in plain slacks and a white button up shirt, he is absolutely terrifying. 

Seungyoun doesn’t push the question any further, just hums back. “Will I see you at the club tonight?” he asks, stepping closer to Seungwoo. “I’ve got a _great_ show planned.”

“Uh-” Seungwoo’s eyes dart over Seungyoun’s shoulder, and sees Byungchan starting to walk back with a few officers with him. “I-I’ve got plans,” he quickly says.

Not even _he_ believes his own lie, and Seungyoun especially doesn’t believe. He just gives Seungwoo a knowing smile, leaning in _close_ and whispering, “I’ll leave a table open for you, just in case,” before backing up and walking to where Byungchan is. 

  
  


__________

  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 14  
** **9:02 PM**

“So what was going on with the robbery?” Wooseok asks as soon as they are seated. 

It’s just the two of them tonight. After leaving Yongsan Garrison and finding where Neor lived, speaking with Nero’s wife, and searching his apartment for any information, they came up empty-handed. Another frustrating case with nothing to show for it, and Wooseok didn’t even bother returning to the station - he drove right to The Red Room, and Seungwoo couldn’t find the energy to disagree.

“The craziest thing,” Seungwoo answers, taking his hat off and putting it on the table. “They have a truck that brings in supplies from the Incheon ports, right? Well, this truck picks up the supplies and drives right to Seoul, but by the time he pulls into the base the supplies are gone.”

Wooseok snorts, picking up a bottle of soju and pouring a glass. “Sounds like bullshit. Is Theft following the truck’s trail?”

Seungwoo holds out his own glass. “Yeah, Byungchan is going to look at the route and stop at any possible gas stations or motels.” 

“What’s the supplies?”

“That’s the other thing.” Seungwoo raises his glass to Wooseok, then downs the shot. “They wouldn’t say.”

Wooseok snorts again. “They wouldn’t _tell_ you what was in the truck?” He shakes his head and drinks. “Fucking Yankees.”  
  
It’s frustrating, but Seungwoo can’t blame the Americans. Anything related to the Yongsan Garrison is confidential. Not many people know much about it, know why the Americans need to stay _this long_ after the war. Of course they wouldn’t want some young Korean cops to know what they’re bringing into the country. It’s a battle they won’t win. All he can do is pour himself and Wooseok another shot of soju and hope the night ends quietly. 

That doesn’t seem to be the case, because the lights are dimming and Seungyoun walks on stage, waving to the cheering crowd.

“That’s my cue to use the facilities,” Wooseok mumbles, downing his shot and getting up from the table. 

Seungwoo has to wonder why Wooseok hates Seungyoun so much. 

Tonight, Seungyoun saunters over to the piano, dressed in an all white suit and a tie as red as blood. He motions for the band to start on his count, and the club is filled with a sultry song that Seungwoo recognizes from the radio. It is completely in English, and Seungyoun sounds as perfect as the original artist. There’s no hesitation to the way he sings. It’s as if he gets lost in the music; eyes closing, foot tapping on the stage, body swaying to the drum’s beat. It’s absolutely enchanting, and Seungwoo feels a bit short of breath. 

Especially when Seungyoun spots him in the crowd.

He doesn’t look fazed, as if he just _knew_ Seungwoo would come, as if this was his plan all along. All he gives is that _damned_ smirk of his, lips curling as he sings into the microphone. 

Seungwoo takes another shot.

Seungyoun’s set goes on for around twenty minutes. At one point, Wooseok returns from the toilet, and scowls when Seungyoun is still performing. He says something, but Seungwoo doesn’t pay attention. When he looks back, Wooseok is walking towards the stage door, and Seungwoo lets him be. 

All too soon, Seungyoun is taking a final bow, and Seungwoo realizes he hardly paid attention to the music.

One more shot for good measure. He’s already feeling the alcohol - before coming to The Red Room, he never drank this much. He hopes Wooseok is sober enough to drive.

“Glad to see I didn’t scare you off earlier.”

Seungwoo almost spits out his drink. 

Seungyoun laughs, pulling a chair out and sitting next to Seungwoo. His tie and jacket are gone, now only dressed in his white blouse and pants. He lets Seungwoo gasp for air as he pours himself a shot using Wooseok’s glass. “My payment for this morning,” he reasons, lifting the glass to Seungwoo before taking the shot. When he’s finished, he sets the glass down and begins to pour another. “So, how did you like my set tonight?”

“You were amazing,” Seungwoo blurts, a bit too quick and too loud. 

Seungyoun bites back a smile. _“Inspector,_ you’re making me blush.”

Seungwoo is the one whose face is heating up. “N-no, really,” he says, facing turning redder when Seungyoun moves his chair even closer. The smile on Seungyoun’s face is growing, and Seungwoo can’t help but give a shy smile back. “You have a lot of talent.”

 _“Thank you,”_ Seungyoun smiles even brighter if that was possible. His tone is genuinely sincere. “Long hours of singing in the shower are finally paying off.”

That has Seungwoo letting out a soft laugh. “Is that the secret?”

“It is.” Seungyoun winks. “Don’t go around telling everyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” Seungwoo replies, trying to ignore how his face heats up at the wink. “It’s part of the police code.”

His answer is a bit stuffy, but Seungyoun just laughs. “You don’t have to be so formal here, Inspector,” he purrs. As he speaks, he picks up the soju bottle and pours Seungwoo a shot. “I won’t tell anyone if you have a little fun.”

Seungwoo graciously drinks the alcohol. He really needs to relax. Besides Wooseok, he doesn’t know anyone in the club. There is no one here that would judge him, look down on him for spending his nights listening to jazz music. And surely, he wouldn’t be the only married man in the room. As his eyes look behind Seunyoun, he notices men in strapping business attire and expensive haircuts, others in more casual suits and wedding rings. No matter where they come from, The Red Room is a secret they all share. What happens within these walls stay here. 

Seungwoo doesn’t know whether he is relieved or more afraid of that realization.

“What do you do for fun?”

Seungwoo’s attention is turned back to Seungyoun, who is pouring himself another shot. 

“Nothing really,” Seungwoo answers him. 

Seungyoun raises an eyebrow. _“Nothing?”_

He can see right through Seungwoo’s hesitance, and Seungwoo sighs, knowing he can’t lie to Seungyoun. “Well…I read a bit.”

“Murder mysteries?”

Seungwoo shakes his head. “The classics, mostly.” He pauses, thoughtful. What _does_ he do for fun? It has been so long since he’s had an hour or two to himself. “I guess I also enjoy listening to music.”

Seungyoun smiles at that. “Jazz?”

“Yeah,” Seungwoo says, smiling back. “I’ve been enjoying jazz. And I also like doing puzzles.”

 _“Ah,”_ Seungyoun exclaims, eyes lighting up. _“That_ sounds fun. What kind of puzzles?”

“Mostly word puzzles and riddles. I’m not too good with numbers.” Seungwoo shrugs. 

Seungyoun hums, then leans forward on the table. “Tell me one.”

Seungwoo blinks. “Oh, uh…” He racks his brain for a good riddle, trying to come up with something clever. “…what must be broken before you can use it?”

Seungyoun tilts his head and hums. “Trust sounds like it would be the answer but…I don’t think that’s it.” He hums for several more seconds, then shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

“An egg.”

There is an embarrassing silence that falls between the two of them as Seungyoun processes the riddle. Seungwoo feels like an idiot - it was a lame riddle and joke - and nearly apologizes. Seungyoun, however, breaks into a large smile and laughs, eyes turning into crescents and cheeks turning pink. _“An egg!”_ he repeats, leaning over the table. His shoulders are shaking from the laughter.

Seungwoo never realized he was such a comedian. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Seungyoun breathes, combing his hair back from his face. _“Whew,_ I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in months.” His eyes have tears in them, and they sparkle when he smiles at Seungwoo. “Okay, tell me another one.”

There’s a bit of panic that bursts through Seungwoo’s chest. “I-I don’t think...they’ll be as funny.”

“Tell me anyway,” Seungyoun insists. “I promise I’ll laugh just as hard.” He leans up and crosses a finger over his heart. “Police’s honor.”

Now Seungwoo is the one chuckling, and he feels the air between them settle a bit. He didn’t think it would be so easy talking with Seungyoun. The singer always seems to catch him off guard, surprise him in some way that makes Seungwoo almost nervous around him. This, though, this is nice. Like two friends joking around, letting loose after a long day’s work. 

Except, Seungwoo’s eyes are traveling down to where Seungyoun’s shirt is unbuttoned, too low to be modest, catching a glimpse of pale skin and sharp collarbones. 

“Uh-oh.” 

Seungwoo jolts, sitting straight up and turning to where Seungyoun is looking. Wooseok is walking out of the backstage door, arm slung around Hyejin. When he turns back around, Seungyoun is already moving out of the chair. “Well, I won’t take away from the rest of your evening.” 

“You don’t-” Seungwoo looks back to Wooseok, than Seungyoun. “You don’t have to go.” Judging by the way Wooseok is swaying, he’s already had a few drinks and won’t put up much of a fight. 

But Seungyoun just shakes his head with a smile. “Wooseok wouldn’t like it if I’m interrupting his time here.”

“But-“

“You can tell me more of your riddles tomorrow?” Seungyoun says, a bit of hope in his voice. 

Tomorrow. 

Seungwoo shouldn’t have come to the club _tonight._ He should have gone home. There is absolutely no reason for him to commit to coming back tomorrow, when he doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, when he shouldn’t even be here, in this club, not when he has a wife at home, who worries because he’s coming home later and later and - 

“Tomorrow,” he repeats, nodding his head.

Seungyoun beams.

  
  


__________

  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 15  
** **9:17 PM**

“Guess who’s back ladies!” Jinhyuk announces, sliding into the dressing room with arms over his head. 

One of the girls gives an unenthusiastic cheer that sends the dressing room in a fit of laughter. 

“It’s only been three days,” Byulyi retorts, rolling her eyes. She takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke out towards Jinhyuk. 

Wooseok pushes Seungwoo in the room. “Just let him pretend you care,” he says. He moves around Seungwoo to get to the couch, grabbing a cigarette from Byulyi’s makeup table. 

Once again, Seungwoo finds himself standing alone in the middle of the dressing room, unsure of how to leave without causing too much of a scene. Jinhyuk and Wooseok are already lounging on the couch, squeezing themselves between Byulyi and Yonsang. They won’t notice if he slips away. Hyejin and Wheein though, they’re patting an empty seat next to them. “Sit here, Seungwoo,” Wheein purrs. She holds out her hand and smiles. “We won’t bite.”

He should have stayed back and gotten their table.

“Hyejin, can I borrow-”

All heads turn to the door. Seungyoun freezes halfway through the doorway, looking a bit surprised at the guests in the room. “Oh...” He looks around, smiling a bit when his eyes shift past Seungwoo. “Hello,” he greets openly, but Seungwoo feels like it was directed at him. “How are our favorite customers this evening?”

“We were having a nice time, and then you had to show up…” Seungwoo hears Wooseok say under his breath.

“What do you want?” Hyejin sighs, picking up a wine glass on her makeup table. 

Seungyoun invites himself in, walking past Seungwoo and brushing their shoulders together. “I just wanted to see if you had that blue scarf from last week.”

Hyejin raises an eyebrow, but motions over to a large cardbox stuffed underneath one of the makeup tables. “It’s somewhere in there.”

“Ah.” Seungyoun cocks his head, then looks down at the suit he’s waring. “Well, can’t ruin my jacket.” He turns his head and smiles at Seungwoo. “Do you mind getting that for me, Inspector? I can’t risk ripping this jacket when I take it back to my room.”

Seungwoo blinks. “Oh, uh-” He looks down at the box. It doesn’t appear heavy - Seungwoo could pick it up with one arm. Besides, Seungyoun could just look through the box for whatever he needs. There isn’t a reason for Seungwoo to take the box back to his room-

Oh.

He’s giving Seungwoo an escape.

Seungwoo looks back at Seungyoun, and the mischievous twinkle in the other’s eye confirms his suspicions. “Y-yeah, I can do that.”

“Excellent!” Seungyoun claps his hands together. “I’ll show you where my room is.” He turns to Wooseok and Jinhyuk. “Hope you don’t mind me stealing your friend.”

“Wet blanket is more like it…” Jinhyuk mumbles, tagging a drag of his cigarette.

Seungwoo supposes that is permission to leave. He moves to grab the box, trying not to get too close to Hyejin or Wheein as he bends over to pull it out underneath the makeup table. 

Hyejin laughs, deep and husky. “You don’t need to be so polite, Seungwoo.” She shifts her legs a bit apart, enough for Seungwoo to catch a glimpse of her undergarments.

Seungwoo grabs the box and turns on his heels, running out the door without glancing back. There’s laughter that follows him. He’ll probably hear about his prudish reaction later from Jinhyuk or Wooseok.

“You may want to wait for directions.”

Seungwoo stops walking when he hears Seungyoun’s voice. Well, he feels a bit foolish now - he has no idea where Seungyoun’s room is. He turns around and gives Seungyoun a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

Seungyoun just smiles back, walking to where Seungwoo is. “Don’t be sorry!” He loops an arm through Seungwoo’s. “You were heading in the right direction, anyway.” 

Seungwoo lets Seungyoun pull him along, down a hallway he has never been before. It’s dimly lit with peeling wallpaper and haze of smoke that Seungwoo suspects isn’t from cigarettes. The difference between where the girls are is obvious, especially when Seungyoun opens the door to what had to have been a utilities closet before it was a dressing room. Nevertheless, Seungyoun has turned the closet into a proper dressing room, filled with posters and lights, even a small loveseat tucked away in the corner. 

There isn’t much room for the two of them together, but Seungyoun doesn’t bat an eye as he holds an arm out for Seungwoo. “You should be safe from any garters here.” 

His tone is teasing, but Seungwoo still stutters out, “W-what do you-”

 _“Anyway-”_ Seungyoun takes the box from Seungwoo and puts it on the small makeup table. Once there, he turns to Seungwoo with a bright smile. “What’s the riddle of the day?”

“Uh…” It’s amazing how Seungyoun can make his head spin. One second his heart feels as if it will burst out of his chest, and the next, he’s giving Seungyoun a shy smile - he’s been doing that a lot lately - and takes a comfortable seat on the couch. “I do have one…” He lets his voice trail off, and that just makes Seungyoun smile wider. 

“Try me.”

  
  


__________

  
  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 17  
** **9:47 PM**

“Okay,” Seungwoo shifts in his seat, determined. “A man was found dead in his study. He was slumped over his desk with a gun was in his hand.” Seungyoun nods along as he speaks. “There was a tape recorder on his desk. When the police entered the room and pressed the play button on the tape recorder they heard: ‘I can't go on. I have nothing to live for.’ Then there was the sound of a gunshot.”

“So suicide,” Seungyoun says, a hint of a smile on his face. 

Seungwoo shakes his head and smiles back. “How did the detective immediately know that the man had been murdered and it _wasn't_ a suicide?”

That has Seungyoun humming, tapping a finger against his cheek. “Well let’s see…” After a few seconds, he smirks. “Could it be...that tape recorders can’t rewind themselves?”

Well, shit. 

_“Dammit,”_ Seungwoo curses. He thought he’d stump Seungyoun with that one.

“Sorry, Inspector,” Seungyoun laughs, pushing Seungwoo’s shot glass closer to him. “You’ll need to do better than that.”

Seungwoo sighs and takes the shot. Seungyoun has gotten every riddle Seungwoo has thrown at him for the past three days. _Every single one_. Add that to the list of Seungyoun’s uncanny talents. He sighs again and put his glass down. “Have you ever thought about working for a police unit?”

That catches Seungyoun off guard. _“Me?”_

“Yeah. It sounds like you enjoy solving riddles-” Seungyoun shrugs. “-and even a few days ago, when you were using English…” It really was amazing. Translating is not easy, and Seungyoun jumped in like a professional. “We need people who speak English and can solve crimes.”

Seungyoun laughs at that. “Not only would I be horrible at solving crimes...” He reaches over and pours Seungwoo another shot, then himself. “I don’t think anyone would want someone like me attached to a unit.” 

“A club singer?” Seungwoo frowns. 

“Let’s just say…” Seungyoun puts down the bottle and picks up his glass. “Someone with a complicated past.” He winks at Seungwoo and takes his shot. 

Seungwoo’s frown gets deeper. “That shouldn’t matter. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?” 

“Even the murderers you catch?” Seungyoun tosses back with a raised eyebrow. His tone is still playful, but Seungwoo doesn’t miss the skepticism in his eyes. Which, is fair. Seungwoo’s job is to catch people who have committed murder to make the city a safer place.

Seungwoo leans back in his chair, sighing. “I don’t think people are born evil. Do they do horrible things? Of course.” He shrugs. “But I don’t think men kill for no reason.” 

He’s seen what can drive men to kill. He’s lived through a war, seen his schoolmates turn into killers and never return. Just the other day, he and Wooseok arrested a man, his age, that killed his wife. They later found out he never was “quite right” after the war, never able to shake horrors of killing strangers with his own hands. 

Seungwoo sighs again, shaking his head. “I think everyone has good in them. It’s just is easy to corrupt.”

Seungyoun doesn’t respond to that. He’s so silent that it has Seungwoo worrying he’s said something wrong. But instead, Seungyoun’s face breaks out into a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief. It has Seungwoo blinking, confused. “What?”

“You’re a real piece of work,” Seungyoun almost whispers, still shaking his head. Seungwoo is not sure what he’s missed, but Seungyoun just leans in closer, so close that Seungwoo can count his eyelashes, and says, “Of all the cops in this city, I’m glad it was you walked into the club that night.” 

It would be so easy to get lost in the sincerity in Seungyoun’s eyes, so easy to see that he truly means what he said.

It would be so easy if not for his hand that finds its way to Seungwoo’s thigh. 

Seungwoo freezes.

They both are silent, neither saying a word to each other. Seungyoun expectantly looks at Seungwoo - waiting, watching - and Seungwoo can only stare back. He can’t wrap his head around the thought that Seungyoun has his hand on his thigh, right here, in the middle of this crowded club, as if no one could notice. He can’t wrap his head around the thought that Seungyoun may be asking if his advance is welcomed, that Seungyoun may have been making advances before. 

He can’t wrap his head around the thought that he’s not sure what he wants to do.

_“Ugh.”_

Seungwoo jumps and looks over at Wooseok, who’s returned to the table after visiting backstage. His partner has a sneer across his lips and another bottle of soju in hand. “Who invited _you?”_

“I let myself off the leash,” Seungyoun replies, not at all bothered by Wooeok’s presence. 

His hand is still on Seungwoo’s thigh. 

Wooseok sighs, sliding into the chair across from Seungwoo. “Well, the girls wanna see you,” he huffs to Seungwoo. “Yongsun says you never finished telling her the joke about the dog.”

“I haven’t heard this joke,” Seungyoun says, raising an eyebrow at Seungwoo.

His hand is still on Seungwoo’s thigh, now rubbing circles. 

“It’s pretty good,” Wooseok chuckles, finding his glass from earlier and pouring himself a drink. “How’d it go again?”

Seungyoun’s hand moves, brushing a bit further up this leg. 

Seungwoo may scream.

Wooseok stops himself mid shot, frowning. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

He can’t see what’s happening. The soju bottles and centerpiece on the table is blocking his view, and Seungyoun is sitting so close his arm doesn’t need to reach too far over.

Seungyoun’s hand freezes, not moving another inch. He turns his head to Seungwoo, eyebrow still raised. “You feeling okay, Seungwoo?” he asks, jokingly, but the hand on Seungwoo’s thigh moves down to his knee, his touch lighter this time.

Seungwoo could brush the hand off, and Wooseok would be none the wiser.

 _“Seungwoo?”_ Seungyoun asks again, and Seungwoo knows he’s not asking about his health.

“I-I’m fine,” he’s able to choke out, sitting straighter in the chair and grabbing his glass again, quickly throwing back a shot. His throat burns at how fast he took the shot, but he ignores it. “Uh, so that joke.”

He doesn’t move Seungyoun’s hand away. 

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Outdoor Market, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **September 19  
** **9:47 AM**

“Okay we need-” Eunji takes the pencil out of her hair. “Onions, cabbage, potatoes, beef, some fish, rice, seaweed-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Seungwoo laughs, trying to write down everything as Eunji says them. His hand isn’t as good a table as he hoped, and his pencil rips right through. _“Shit.”_

That earns him a light smack on the shoulder. “There are _children_ around,” Eunji playfull chides. She hands him over her list. “Just take it, I’ll get all the vegetables.”

Seungwoo takes the list, pointing his nose up to the sky. “Your lack of faith in my memory is offending, my dear.”

Eunji laughs at the exaggeration. “You sound like my father.” She sticks her tongue out, then raises on her toes to catch Seungwoo’s lips. “I’ll meet you in an hour?”

Seungwoo gives a quick peck back. “If you happen across any red bean paste and want to pick some up, I’ll love you forever.”

“You already do,” Eunji giggles back, stealing one more kiss before walking towards the vegetable stands. 

Seungwoo tries to ignore the knot in his stomach.

Instead, he heads over to the butcher stalls. Whatever sinking feeling he has can be solved with some beef. Luckily, the grandmother at the stall allows him to try some cooked beef before he buys. It takes about a half hour to heckle all of the prices on the meats and fish, but he’s able to muddle through. Eunji has always been the better negotiator. 

He’s got an arm full of groceries in record time, and honestly feels a bit proud. Seungwoo checks his pocket watch to see he’s got some time left before meeting up with Eunji. Maybe he can find someone selling desserts. It’s a plan, and Seungwoo walks across the market to where the vegetables are. 

He nearly gets smacked in the head with a flying football, and he ducks just as a young boy screams to get out of the way. Seungwoo dives for cover next to a stall as a group runs past, all yells and elbows thrown about as they run down the market road. Seungwoo watches as they go, not at all mad. He was a rascal once, and it’s nice to see some kids play around. They look like they range from a few years to their teens and maybe older, judging by the height of one of the players with unfashionably long hair, and-

Wait.

Seungwoo double takes, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the children and teens passing around the football and - yes, he was right. 

It’s easy to spot Seungyoun among the group.

If Seungwoo missed the long hair and long limbs, he surely would have heard Seungyoun. Seungyoun’s laugh and screams float above the rest, partially because he’s a head above the rest. One of the children jabs him in the stomach to get to the ball, and Seungyoun doubles over, flinging himself to the ground and howling in fake pain. The child laughs and flops himself on top of him, and some of the other children follow suit. The scene has Seungwoo smiling, and he’s not sure how long he’s standing in the middle of the market, watching Seungyoun play football. 

It’s enough time for Seungyoun to look in his direction and spot him. Immediately, Seungyoun stands up and waves, a bright smile on his face. Seungwoo doesn’t realize he’s waving back until Seungyoun picks up the football and starts jogging towards him, and panic bursts through his chest.

He’s waving at Seungyoun. Out in the open. With _Eunji_ nearby.

Running seems to be the only option, but Seungyoun is too fast - he’s already bounced in front of Seungwoo, the goofy smile still on his face. “I _swear,_ Inspector, I’m being good.”

The panic quickly changes to skepticism. “Why do I not believe that?” Seungwoo asks back, more playful than even Seungwoo expected. It’s difficult to be serious with Seungyoun smiling like that. 

Seungyoun huffs. “I’ll have you know, I take pride in being a law abiding citizen.” He gives Seungwoo a deep pout, before dropping the football and bouncing it around on his feet.

“You play football, _too?”_ Seungwoo marvels, watching how Seungyoun kicks the ball around with ease. “Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

Seungyoun bounces the ball back up to catch it. “What can I say? I’m a man full of surprises.” He gives Seungwoo another smile before tossing him the ball. Seungwoo’s caught a bit off guard, startling when the ball hits his bag of groceries, but once it bounces back on the ground his reflexes kick into gear - he juggles the ball with his right foot. It’s been so long since he’s played football. He’s surprised he even remembers how to juggle.

“And you were surprised at _my_ skills?” Seungyoun laughs as he watches Seungwoo. “Who knew you were such an athlete.”

“I played a bit in high school.” Seungwoo bounces the ball a few more times before catching it with his open arm. “Defensive Midfielder. You?”

A proud smirk forms on Seungyoun’s lips. “Main stiker.”

Seungwoo’s not surprised in the least. It suits Seungyoun, being the star of a team. He tosses the ball back. “Don’t tell me you were a star student, too.”

“Highest grades in mathematics and chemistry.” The smirk grows even larger. “Let me guess…” Seungyoun tucks the ball under his arm and brings a hand to his face, thoughtful. “...you had top marks in sciences?”

“Literature, actually. I was a sucker for the romantics.” Seungwoo replies, a bit sheepish. 

“Huh. Never took you for a romantic.”

“Why? Just because I arrest people for a living?” Seungwoo laughs, kicking Seungyoun in the foot.

“Just because you kind of freeze up whenever someone flirts with you,” is Seungyoun’s answer. 

Oh.

Seungwoo’s not sure if Seungyoun’s referring to the women at the club, or, more probable, if he’s referring to himself.

Suddenly, the air between them gets tense, amd Seungwoo thinks he needs to leave. “I should-”

“Are you feeling better?” Seungyoun interrupts. Seungwoo frowns at the question, and Seungyoun tap his fingers on the ball. “You were looking pale a few days ago at the club…”

_Oh._

The memory hits him like a ton of bricks - Seungyoun’s hand on his thigh, so hot that Seungwoo can almost feel it now. 

“Are you…” Seungyoun takes a step forward, licking his lips. “Will I see you tonight?”

It’s Sunday, Seungwoo’s day off. He has no reason to go to the club. He should be staying home with Eunji, with _his wife,_ listening to the radio as they eat dinner. He should let her fall asleep on his shoulder, then lead her to bed and make love to her like a husband _should._ He shouldn’t go to a jazz club, only to go hear the jazz singer - the _male_ jazz singer - sing. He shouldn’t watch the male singer and marvel at his unconventional beauty, at the way his body moves with the music, as if it’s taken control over him. He shouldn't let the male singer touch him underneath the table cloth, sending sparks up Seungwoo’s legs in a way he almost forgot was possible. 

He shouldn’t go to the club tonight, but he can’t seem to tell Seungyoun that.

Nor does he get the chance, because it is then a gunshot pierced through the air, so fast that Seungwoo thought he imagined it. But then the screams start and he knows it’s real.

Seungyoun sucks in a breath, eyes going wide when he too realizes what happened. “The green,” he whispers. 

It’s pure instinct that moves Seungwoo before his mind catches up. He drops the bag of groceries in his hand and runs past Seungyoun, dodging confused shop owners and shoppers, who turn into scrambling citizens when he reaches the open green in the middle of the market. There are people running in all directions, but he can see a small group of people standing around a young man and a body on the ground. 

_“Dad!”_ the young man wails, and Seungwoo’s stomach drops. 

He rushes over to the group, grabbing his badge tucked in his coat. “Everyone back up!” he yells. 

The few people around the body move, except for the boy. He’s gripping his father's shirt, sobbing out pleads that Seungwoo can’t make out. Seungwoo looks at the man and can tell he’s already dead, one bullet straight through the heart. 

The only thing he can do is pull the boy off, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around so he’s looking away. 

“No! No! Let me _go!_ ” he sobs and _God_ , he looks so young. His hands are covered in blood and he’s hitting Seungwoo’s chest to get away, but Seungwoo just pulls him into a hug, cradling his head. It works and the boy breaks down, body slumping and rocking with each cry. 

A car screeches, and Seungwoo snaps his head up to see a black car pulling off to the far side of the green, nearly hitting a few shoppers. A man dressed in all black jumps in and the car flies away. There’s no way Seungwoo would be able to catch it - not on foot. He will have to let it go and hope someone saw the license plate. He shakes his head and looks up at one of the men still standing close. “Find a telephone and call the police,” he orders, and the man nods and darts off.

A larger crowd is beginning to form, and Seungwoo will need to keep everyone away. Hopefully there are a few policemen nearby. For now, he looks around at the small crowd still standing near the body, asking them to make sure no one gets close. He’ll need to speak to them anyway. He needs to know why someone shot a man dead in plain sight. 

As Seungwoo instructs, he catches sight of Eunji in the market. She’s got an arm full of groceries, and is staring at Seungwoo with wide eyes. She goes to take a step forward, but Seungwoo quickly shakes his head. _Go home,_ he mouths to her. She gets the message, nodding her head and turning around so she can walk back to the main part of the market.

A few meters away from her is Seungyoun.

When Seungwoo catches his eye, Seungyoun moves so Seungwoo can see the grocery bag he left behind. Seungyoun gives him a curt nod before putting the bag down at the edge of the green. Seungwoo feels like he needs to do something - mouth thank you, give him a nod - but Seungyoun quietly slips away in the crowd before he can even think. 

The boy sobs harder in his arms.

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 19  
** **8:56 PM**

The knock on the door makes Seungwoo jolt.

“Sorry, Seungwoo,” Dongwook says, looking a bit guilty.

“N-no, no, please,” Seungwoo replies, immediately standing up and motioning to the chair next to his desk. It’s been uncomfortably empty at the station - most of the Inspectors are off. Seungwoo had been by himself, doing the reports for the murder in the market. 

Dongwook gives him an appreciative smile, saying, “Sorry you had to work on your day off” as he slides into the chair. 

“There’s no day off for us,” Seungwoo replies, sitting down. “At least I was there when it happened.” 

Dongwook sighs back. “Do you have anything to go off of?”

Seungwoo shakes his head. “No.” He shuffles some papers around on his desk to find his report. “Son Minpyo, a bank teller.” He hands the paper to Dongwook. “Shot by a man dressed in all black. Walked right up to him and his son at the market and shot him.”

“And the son?”

Seungwoo picks up another paper. “Dongpyo, seventeen. Wasn’t harmed.”

“Odd,” Dongwook comments. 

“Yeah. Obviously it was planned since no one else was shot. Killer even took the license plates off his car.” Seungwoo throws the paper back onto his desk. “But based on statements from his wife and son, they have no idea why anyone would want to kill him.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I think he was killed for a reason,” Seungwoo answers. He may not know why Minpyo was killed, but he knows there’s a reason for it. That’s the mystery to solve. 

Dongwook smiles. “And that’s why we have you on the team.” He hands Seungwoo the paper he was holding back. “If you want, I can give this to Jinhyuk and Sejin. You’re plate’s full.”

Seungwoo thinks back to Dongpyo’s swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks and shakes his head. “I’d like to keep it.”

“I can respect that,” Dongwook says. He looks over at the clock on the wall. “Well, your ass better be out of here in five minutes.”

“I can stay-”

 _“Out,”_ Dongwook chuckles, louder this time. “Go home.” 

Seungwoo opens his mouth again, but Dongwook is already up from his chair and heading back out to the hallways. Before he leaves, he turns back to Seungwoo. “Let this be a lesson to you - don’t live with regrets.” He motions to Seungwoo’s desk. “You never know what will happen tomorrow.”

Seungwoo follows his gaze to the reports on his desk. Son Minpyo woke up this morning like any other day, not knowing that he would be dead in a few hours. Dongpyo woke up not knowing he would see his father killed right before his eyes. 

He looks down at his wedding ring. For all Seungwoo knows, tomorrow he could be dead, and he would leave this life feeling how he does now.

Tired. Frustrated. Confused. 

Unhappy. 

He looks back down at his wedding ring, then grabs his coat and hat.

__________

  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **September 19  
** **9:42 PM**

“Oh! Seungwoo!” Sunho quickly rounds the podium to take Seungwoo’s jacket and hat. “How many seats will you need?”

Seungwoo swallows. “Just myself tonight.”

That surprises Sunho, but he only shows it for a moment. His usual smile is back within seconds. “Would you like your usual table?”

“Please.”

Sunho nods, quickly opening the door to the club and leading Seungwoo inside. He leaves Seungwoo at the table, mentioning he’ll bring back a bottle of soju. “Not tonight,” Seungwoo says. “Just some water.” Sunho is surprised for the second time that evening, but complys. Seungwoo thanks him and sits down before his legs give out. He’s shaking - so much that he fears the patrons around him can notice. Luckily, the lights are already turned down low and their attention is towards the stage. Yongsan is already performing, which means he missed Seungyoun’s set. 

But that’s not why he’s here tonight.

When Sunho comes back with his water, Seungwoo leans up to catch his ear. “I need to speak with Seungyoun,” he whispers, just so Sunho can hear. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, back, looking a bit worried.

Seungwoo nods, trying his best to look collected. “Nothing to worry about.”

Sunho still looks worried, but thankfully doesn’t press the issue. As he leaves for backstage, Seungwoo pours himself some water and takes a drink. His hand is shaking, and he wonders if he should have gotten the alcohol. He has half a mind to ask for a cigarette, even though he hasn’t smoked in months. Anything to stop him from changing his mind and running like a coward.

“Inspector.”

Now Seungwoo really feels like running.

Seungyoun slips into the seat across from him. He’s in all black tonight, and Seungwoo admires how it looks against his pale skin. “How are you?” Seungyoun asks, careful, a bit hesitant. 

“Tired.” Seungwoo sighs, shaking his head. 

“You need a drink?”

Seungwoo shakes his head again. “I’d rather not.”

They sit in silence for a few seconds, neither speaking nor moving. Seungwoo supposes he should say something first, but Seungyoun speaks first, saying, “You didn’t have to come here.” 

It’s not a statement of guilt - it’s a confirmation, and Seungwoo is fully aware of it. Which is why his heart picks up speed when he looks Seungyoun in the eyes and says, “I know.” 

He’s confident, but the words still sting. It’s hard to admit, and the very thought of him being here, right now, in this moment, is enough to make him laugh roughly. “It’s disgusting, right? To feel like this?” Seungwoo’s not sure who he’s talking to, Seungyoun or himself. He groans and puts his head in his hands. 

“Like how?” Seungyoun asks, voice so soft it’s nearly lost among the music.

“Like…” Seungwo swallows and shakes his head. This is _wrong._ Seungwoo has a wife, a _woman,_ at home, worried about him. A wife that he’s been married to for four years. A wife that Seungwoo has known since they were children. A wife that Seungwoo loves. 

But is not _in love_ with. 

He lifts his head. “Like wanting to jump across this table and rip your clothes off.”

That’s when he shifts his hand on the table, just enough so Seungyoun can see what’s missing from his fingers. 

If Seungyoun is surprised, he doesn’t show it. All he does is lock eyes with Seungwoo again and lick his lips.

Seungwoo may combust.

They fall silent again, but this time it’s different - the air is thick, neither knowing what will happen if they move. Seungwoo feels heat rise through his body, from the tips of his toes and up his legs, settling in the pit of his stomach in a way that Seungwoo almost forgot about. It’s a feeling that has Seungwoo caught between running for the door and pinning Seungyoun on the floor. 

He’s leaning towards the former option, but then Seungyoun’s laying his hand on his, giving him an inviting smile. “Sounds like you had a long day, Inspector,” he purrs, running his fingers over Seungwoo’s wrist, right over his pulse. “Your day off turned into work.” He’s up out of his seat and holds out a hand to Seungwoo. “Let me help you relax?”

He’s giving Seungwoo a chance to escape, but that won’t be needed. Not when Seungwoo’s heart feels the most alive it’s been in a while. “Y-yes.”

Excitement and heavy lust flashes across Seungyoun’s eyes, and Seungwoo doesn’t have time to blink before Seungyoun is grabbing his hand, weaving them through the club and to the backstage door. Everyone backstage is occupied or drunk, and it makes it easier to weave their way to Seungyoun’s dressing room. As soon as the door is closed, Seungwoo is pressed against the door and their lips are on each other’s mouths. 

He hasn’t kissed someone like this in _years_ , hot and desperate, bodies already trying to get closer together. Seungwoo grabs Seungyoun by the waist and pulls him in, moaning when Seungyoun swipes his tongue over Seungwoo’s mouth, when he feels Seungyoun slot their hips together. 

_“Fuck_ , I’ve wanted this for so long,” Seungyoun hisses, moving from Seungwoo’s mouth to his neck. “Since I first saw you.” He bites down and Seungwoo gasps, threading his fingers through Seungyoun’s hair. “Wanted to get my mouth around your cock.”

Seungwoo whimpers. 

“Can I, Inspector?” Seungyoun whispers, hands brushing against the front of Seungwoo’s slacks, right underneath his belt. “Can I suck you off?”

He presses harder on the front of Seungwoo’s pants, and Seungwoo’s knees buckle, so much that he grabs onto Seungyoun’s shoulders to keep himself upright. “P-please-“

That’s all Seungyoun needs. 

He’s undoing Seungwoo’s belt and pants, dropping them and his underwear around Seungwoo’s ankles and getting on his knees. 

Seungwoo moans just at the sight. 

Seungyoun starts by grabbing Seungwoo’s thighs, massaging them and leaving a trail of kisses until he reaches Seungwoo’s cock. He looks up through his long lashes, giving Seungwoo a demure smile before licking a long strip up his dick. 

Seungwoo throws his head back.


	3. Act III

**Act III**

**_Love that we can not have is the one that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest, and feels the strongest._ **

**Kay Knudsen**

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 27  
** **7:04 PM**

“I’m just going to stay here for the night,” Seungwoo says, fussing the the telephone cord. “We have beds.”

He hears Eunji sigh. “Did you remember to pack a clean suit for tomorrow?” 

“Of course.” Seungwoo looks down at the suitcase he packed a few days ago, just in case he couldn’t get home. “Clean suit, clean underwear, toothbrush.” 

“I need to have a talk with your Senior. You’ve been coming home late every day this week.” 

Seungwoo swallows. “The cases are piling up.” 

It’s true. 

Eunji sighs again, and waits a few seconds before saying, “I feel like I never see you anymore…”

“Eunji…” Seungwoo runs a hand through his hair. He was praying the conversation wouldn’t get to this. The last thing he wants is for Eunji to start questioning why Seungwoo is always home so late - or why he doesn’t come home at all. So he tosses out, “How about this? Let’s go on vacation next month.”

“Vacation? Is that even in your vocabulary?”

There’s a bit of laughter back in her voice, and Seungwoo relaxes a bit. “We can go to Busan. Let’s see my family, then yours. We can go to the beach.” 

It’s a cheap shot. Eunji loves the beach, and neither of them have seen their families in over a year. And they have talked about going earlier, but then Seungwoo’s promotion hit. It’s the perfect promise to keep Eunji satisfied, so perfect that Seungwoo feels horrible for evening using it.

But it does the job. “That would be _amazing,”_ Eunji replies in a wistful tone, and Seungwoo can hear the smile on her face. 

He’s safe - for now. 

“Now go get some sleep,” Eunji chides. 

“I will.” 

“I love you.” 

Seungwoo gulps. “I love you, too.”

When she hangs up, Seungwoo slumps in his chair. That could have gone horribly. But a trip to Busan does sound nice. He hasn’t seen his sister since she told him she’s expecting. He’d like to get down before she gives birth. 

He sits back up and writes himself a note to ask Dongwook about taking a vacation. Hopefully his days from Theft can roll over. Once he’s done, he grabs his suitcase and shuts his desk lamp off. 

__________

  
  


**Apartment Complex, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **September 27  
** **8:23 PM**

For the six years Seungwoo has lived in Yongsan, he’s never been to this part of town. It’s ten minutes by taxi away from the outdoor market, but Seungwoo never ventured out to see what was this way. From what he can tell, there’s not much. Once he is past the market, the neighborhoods start looking worn. Half collapsed buildings are stuck between open stores and houses. It’s almost jarring since just across the road is part of Yongsan Garrison, all new and renovated once the Americans made it their own. 

The taxi eventually pulls over in front of a run down apartment complex. It’s seen better years, maybe even being a building that survived the war. Seungwoo thanks the driver and gets out, following instructions to go through a side door that says _DO NOT ENTER_ but is opened anyway. Nerves start kicking in once he’s climbing up three flights of stairs and down the hall to the left, room 316. 

There is no going back after this. 

But Seungwoo knows that. 

Three knocks and the door opens. “Hey there,” Seungyoun says, already a smile on his face. He’s not wearing any makeup and his hair’s a bit messy, but he’s just as inviting as he is on the club stage.

“Hi,” Seungwoo breathes, and it’s hard not to smile back at Seungyoun. 

His host opens the door all the way and let’s Seungwoo walk inside. “Did it take you long to get here from the station?”

“Over an hour.” Seungwoo grumbles, dropping his suitcase and taking off his coat and hat. “The traffic is horrible…”

Seungyoun takes them both with a laugh. “That’s why I never got a license.” He hangs them up on the coat rack behind the door, then twirls around and waves his hands. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

It’s a one room flat. The kitchen is stuffed in one corner of the room, and a bed is stuffed in another. There’s a small couch and coffee table with magazines, a kitchen table that’s only large enough for two chairs, and a surprisingly full bookshelf filled with books. Seungwoo takes his suitcase over to the bed and cranes his neck to look at some of the titles the shelf. Most are in Korean, but there’s an entire row of books with English titles. “Is this how you keep up on your English?”

“Yep. Got them off of some Americans who come by the club every week.” Seungyoun shrugs, then looks to Seungwoo. “Do you want a drink?”

“Please.”

Once he’s settled his suitcase, he walks back over to the bookshelf, scanning the books for any he’s already read. He gets about halfway down the shelf when he sees a large record player off to the side of the bookshelf. “Wow,” he says, walking over to the record player. He’s never seen one outside of a radio station. “This is beautiful.”

“My one splurge,” Seungyoun replies, handing Seungwoo a glass of soju. “Spent three paychecks on her.” He walks over and starts the player, setting the needle down. The music starts and Seungwoo recognizes it - it’s one of the more upbeat songs Seungyoun frequently sings in the club. It must be a favorite, because as soon as the vocals start, Seungyoun is singing along, swaying to the music. 

Seungwoo feels his heart swell.

He smiles and takes a seat on the couch, drinking his soju and listening to the music. He’s not sure how long he watches Seungyoun, singing to himself, but it’s long enough that the record ends and his drink is empty. 

Seungyoun changes the record to a slower tune, another song Seungwoo recognizes. This time, Seungyoun downs his drink and turns to Seungwoo, holding out a hand. “Do you dance?” 

He almost laughs. “Not since…” 

Not since his wedding.

Seungyoun tilts his head, but Seungwoo just shakes his head, giving him a sheepish smile. “It’s been awhile,” he says. 

Seungyoun doesn’t press further. Instead, he reaches over and takes Seungwoo’s hand, pulling him off the couch and into his arms. He puts one hand on Seungwoo’s waist, while Seungwoo laughs and puts his hand on Seungyoun’s shoulder. 

Seungyoun leads them, dancing around the room to the music. Seungwoo will twirl every so often, making Seungyoun laugh. It’s not particularly funny, but the alcohol and the situation is making laughing easier. The giggles stay, so much that Seungwoo drops his head onto Seungyoun’s shoulder because his face is starting to hurt. 

Neither of them make a move to stop dancing, even after the song ends. Seungyoun nuzzles his face into Seungwoo’s neck. It sends a shiver down Seungwoo’s spine, and he sighs at the touch. 

“Hey.”

Seungwoo lifts his head, nose almost touching Seungyoun’s. Seungyoun notices too, because he leans in and brushes them together. “I’m not expecting anything,” he says softly. “We can just drink and dance the night away.”

It’s a sweet gesture, acting as if Seungwoo didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to meet Seungyoun at his apartment, as if they hadn’t spent every night this past week in Seungyoun’s dressing room with Seungyoun’s mouth around his cock or his hand jerking Seungyoun off.

So Seungwoo leans in first to kiss Seungyoun. 

It’s soft, a little hesitant. Quick pecks that bring the giggles back. While they kiss, Seungyoun moves them to the bed, walking until the back of Seungwoo’s knees hit the mattress. He falls back and let’s Seungyoun climb on top of him. 

Seungyoun pulls away as they move up to the pillows. “Have you ever…?” His hand brushes against the front of Seungwoo’s pants. 

It feels so silly to have his face heat up - even sillier when Seungwoo _feels_ embarrassed at the thought of _not_ having sex with a man before. “Just...fooled around. Back in college.” 

There’s an amused smile on Seungyoun’s lips. “Behind the bleachers?” 

“Locker room,” Seungwoo admits. “You?”

“A bit,” Seungyoun replies. He gives a mischievous wink before kissing Seungwoo again. “I’ll be your guide.” 

And after one more kiss, Seungyoun reaches for Seungwoo’s shirt. 

Seungwoo closes his eyes. He doesn’t know if he can handle watching Seungyoun. That, and every sensation is enhanced when Seungwoo just focuses on Seungyoun’s fingers unbuttoning his shirt, sliding over his chest once the shirt is undone. Seungyoun’s lips move to Seungwoo’s neck, then collarbone, hands moving to untuck Seungwoo’s undershirt from his pants. Seungwoo sighs when he feels Seungyoun’s hands move up to remove the undershirt, gasping when teasing fingers pass over his nipples.

“Sensitive?” Seungyoun chuckles. He helps Seungwoo out of the shirt, then leans down and licks over one. 

Seungwoo gasps again and arches off the bed. _“Fuck.”_

 _“Language,”_ Seungyoun jokes. He licks the nipple again before kissing down Seungwoo’s stomach. The belt is off next, and it’s only a matter of seconds before Seungwoo and Seungyoun are completely naked. He keeps his eyes closed. A flush of self-consciousness runs through his body, and he hopes he’s not turning red. 

“Have I told you how pretty your cock is?”

 _“Seungyoun,”_ Seungwoo whines, covering his face with a hand. He definitely is red now, certainly not expecting _that._

“I’m serious,” Seungyoun continues, and Seungwoo feels his hand on his thigh. “It’s _perfect.”_ His other hand traces up Seungwoo’s thigh and brushes against his dick. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

That doesn’t make Seungwoo feel any less embarrassed, but he isn’t able to think for much longer. He feels Seungyoun’s mouth suck at the head of his cock and he bucks up, gasping at the warmth. Seungyoun just hums, lazily licking and mouthing at the head. From the past week, Seungwoo’s noticed that Seungyoun likes lapping his dick like a kitten, preferring demure licks to sucking. That, or Seungyoun enjoys the whimpers that Seungwoo makes when he does it. 

_“Shit,”_ Seungwoo moans. His hands grip the sheets around him. 

“Not _there,_ darling,” Seungyoun purrs against his groin. He takes one of Seungwoo’s hands and leads it to his head. _“Here.”_

Seungwoo moans louder but obeys, threading his fingers through Seungyoun’s long hair. Seungyoun makes another content hum, then goes back to licking Seungwoo’s cock. He goes from gently sucking on the head, to running his tongue down to the base, mouthing around the shaft before going back to the tip. Every so often, his eyes flicker up to meet Seungwoo’s, as if he’s making sure he has Seungwoo’s full attention. It only makes Seungwoo hotter, because how could Seungwoo think of anything other that Seungyoun’s pretty lips stretched around his cock? His hands keep touching Seungwoo’s thighs and hips, gripping harder when Seungyoun gets daring and takes almost all of Seungwoo’s cock down his throat. He does this a few times, licking around the head to swallowing Seungwoo whole. It’s absolutely maddening, and it only takes a few more seconds before Seungwoo’s pulling up on his hair and stuttering, “Y-you might want to...”

Seungyoun gets the idea, but still gives Seungwoo’s cock one last suck before he pulls up. He gives Seungwoo a few moments to calm down by taking his own clothes off, then situates himself on Seungwoo’s lap, reaching over to the dresser and grabbing a container of a clear substance. “What’s that?” Seungwoo asks as Seungyoun opens the cap. 

“Petroleum jelly.” Seungyoun wafts it in front of Seungwoo’s nose. “You’ve never jacked off using it?” Seungwoo shakes his head, and Seungyoun shrugs. “Efficient.” 

Seungwoo watches with hooded eyes as Seungyoun dips his fingers inside the jar, then braces a hand on Seungwoo’s chest. He reaches the hand behind him and sighs, eyes fluttering closed and _oh-_

Seungwoo sucks in a breath when he realizes Seungyoun is opening himself up. 

“Gotta get nice and loose for your thick cock,” Seungyoun whispers when he notices Seungwoo staring. He gives a smile that turns into a moan when he moves his wrists. “Touch me.” 

Seungwoo immediately puts his hands on Seungyoun’s thighs, rubbing the skin under his fingers and Seungyoun moans again. “Fuck, your hands are perfect, too.” He gives a shaky laugh. “Next time, you’re fucking me with them.”

_Next time._

Just the promise of countless _next times_ has Seungwoo’s head spinning, especially when Seungyoun begins moving his hips against Seungwoo’s dick. It has him moaning, arching into the friction. “S-seungyoun-“

 _“Soon,”_ he whispers, groaning again when his hand moves faster. “Can’t take that cock without proper precautions.”

“I may not last that long…” Seungwoo mumbles back. He grips Seungyoun’s hips harder and tries to control his breathing. It’s been so long since he’s been this wound up, so long since he has felt the need to come just from foreplay, and his eagerness has Seungyoun laughing.

“Okay, okay,” Seungyoun chuckles, removing his fingers and dipping them back into the container. He slicks Seungwoo’s dick and Seungwoo almost comes on the spot.

 _“Seungyoun-“_ His breath is knocked out of his lungs as soon as Seungyoun sinks down on the tip of his cock. 

_“Fuck,”_ Seungyoun groans, pausing before he takes all of Seungwoo inside of him.

Seungwoo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. 

Seungyoun is _tight,_ so impossibly tight and _hot_ that Seungwoo nearly comes just from the feeling of being inside Seungyoun. He groans, hands moving to Seungyoun’s hips and gripping them, tighter when Seungyoun rocks his hips. “W-wait-“ Seungwoo pants, trying to keep Seungyoun from moving. 

Seungyoun gives a breathy laugh. “You good, Inspector?” He rolls his hips once more and Seungwoo may die.

“I-I-“ Seungwoo can’t seem to speak, only able to let out a shaky moan.

Seungyoun laughs again and leans down, laying himself over Seungwoo’s chest and kissing him. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing,” he says into Seungwoo’s lips. After a few more kisses, he puts both hands on Seungwoo’s chest and lifts himself off his cock, just a bit, then moves back down. 

Seungwoo’s toes curl, and he can’t help but fuck his hips up into Seungyoun’s warmth. Seungyoun does it a few more times, and Seungwoo gets the rhythm, moving his hips every time Seungyoun fucks himself down. “There you go,” Seungyoun coos. His hips move faster and he starts getting louder, nearly as loud as Seungwoo’s deep groans. 

They move together, hard enough that the bed creaks and their skin smacks against each other, hard enough that Seungwoo is panting. He’s trying to keep up with Seungyoun, but the other’s movements are sloppy and desperate. It’s difficult to match Seungyoun’s hips. He tries to fuck up into Seungyoun, but his feet start slipping and his timing gets thrown off, and eventually Seungwoo gives up for a moment, just letting Seungyoun do as he pleases. Seungyoun notices and braces himself to fuck harder onto Seungwoo’s cock. He looks breathtaking, Seungwoo notices; eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open, skin slick from sweat, moaning out a strangled _“S-seungwoo!”_ on those beautiful lips of his. He looks perfectly content using Seungwoo’s dick as a toy, no need for Seungwoo to do anything but lie there and soak up the sweet noises Seungyoun is making.

But Seungwoo wants his attention.

So he leans up, sitting upright to try and take control. He wraps his arms around Seungyoun’s waist and Seungyoun _wails_ when Seungwoo’s cock drives deeper into him. “Oh, _fuck,”_ he moans, throwing an arm around Seungwoo’s neck and moving his hips in a circle. _“Fuck,_ just like that.” Another string of filthy whines escape his lips, loud and needy, all because of _Seungwoo._

Seungwoo thrusts as best he can, burying his head in Seungyoun’s neck and inhaling the scent of liquor and smoke and something so incredibly _Seungyoun._ His toes curl again, and this time, he knows there’s no stopping the pleasure crawling through his skin. _“Close.”_

Seungyoun gets the message and works his hips faster, practically writhing in Seungwoo’s lap. It’s too much - the heat around his cock, Seungyoun’s moans in his ear, Seungyoun’s skin, _Seungyoun_ \- and all it takes is Seungyoun squeezing around him. Seungwoo’s body locks as he comes, so white hot that he swears he blacks out.

He can’t remember the last time sex felt this good.

He’s being pushed down into his back again. Blood is still rushing to his ears, but he can feel Seungyoun keep fucking himself on his cock, desperate for his own release. Seungwoo gives an honest try to jerk Seungyoun off, but Seungyoun just takes his hand and holds it, giving him a sly smile before he’s coming untouched.

Seungwoo moans at the sight.

Seungyoun stays upright for a few seconds before he leans down. Seungwoo helps guide him to his chest and holds him, both panting. He swears he can hear both of their heartbeats, so loud it’s deafening. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so spent after sex, the last time he’s felt so _good._ If he knew sex with men felt this good, he would have done it a hell of a lot sooner.

Though, it probably is this good because it’s _Seungyoun._

“Hey.”

Seungwoo hums back, and Seungyoun noses his cheek. “You good?”

Seungwoo swallows, still panting. “Yeah.” 

“That’s all you can say?” Seungyoun laughs.

“Yeah.”

Seungyoun chuckles. “You’re adorable.” He gives Seungwoo a chaste peck before lifting himself off Seungwoo’s cock, and Seungwoo feels his face heat up when he sees come slide down Seungyoun’s thighs. “C’mon,” the singer says, taking Seungwoo’s hands and pulling him up. “Let’s get clean.”

They don’t get much cleaner in the bathroom.

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **September 28  
** **10:24 AM**

A box slams down on Seungwoo’s desk, and he nearly shrieks. _“What the-“_

“Here’s all the documents Technical Services got from Son’s home,” Wooseok explains, looking a bit amused at Seungwoo’s reaction. “We get to see them now.”

Seungwoo swats at him, putting a hand on his chest to try and calm his heart down. “H-hold on-” he wheezes, holding a finger up.

“I’ll give you mouth to mouth!” Jinhyuk laughs from a few desks over. 

That doesn’t make things better, and Seungwoo finds himself choking a bit more.

Wooseok gives him a few moments to catch his breath, the smug look still on his face. “Well, don’t catch your breath too soon there because-” Wooseok takes off the box lid and drops it on Seungwoo’s desk. “Wait until you see what we’ve got.”

Seungwoo cranes his neck and looks inside. The box is full of paper, bank records from the looks of them. “TS brought bank records?”

“Well, yeah, he was a bank teller, right?” Wooseok takes a stack and puts them on Seungwoo’s desk, then reaches in for another. “So it’d make sense that he’d have bank records. _But-”_ He puts a third stack on the table with a bright smile. “Your partner here did some digging.” He picks up a few papers that are on top of the second pile and hands them to Seungwoo. “Some of these records don’t match any at the bank.”

That has Seungwoo frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I had the bank look back at these records, and they don’t have any matching records.” He points to one of the sheets. “So this one? A deposit of one hundred thousand won made on April 7. But the bank doesn’t have a record of anyone making that deposit.”

Seungwoo flips through a few more sheets in the pile. One deposit for three hundred thousand won. One deposit for seventy five thousand. One deposit for- 

_“One million won?”_ Seungwoo nearly drops the paper. Someone made a deposit to Son Minpyo for one million won. Seungwoo’s never seen one million won in one place before. 

“It all adds up to ten million won deposited over the past year to a fake account,” Wooseok continues. “Tell me how a bank teller living in Ichon gets multi-million won deposits.”

“They don’t,” Seungwoo answers immediately. If anyone had millions of won they were putting in a bank, they would be doing so in Gangnam. No one in Yongsan has that kind of money.

At least, no one in Yongsan wants you to know about it.

Seungwoo looks up at Wooseok. “This is why he was killed.”

“Most likely. But we can’t connect it.” Wooseok shakes his head. “We’ve got a fake bank account, and a dead bank teller. But nothing that puts two and two together.”

That’s the problem. Not just anyone handles millions of won, especially when the millions aren’t officially deposited. Where did the money go and why is Minpyo trying to hide it in his home? 

That gets Seungwoo thinking: “Did you check his office?”

Wooseok frowns. “Minpyo’s?”

“Yeah.” Seungwoo puts the paper down. “What if there’s something in his office?” He doesn’t wait for Wooseok to respond before he grabs his coat and hat. “Maybe some kind of key? A code? Some way to figure out who’s money he was taking.” 

It’s the basics - keep the lock and key separate.

“Woah, woah-” Wooseok tries to put all the papers back in the box, but Seungwoo is already out of the office door, heading to the main exit. 

__________

  
  


**SM Bank, Ichon Branch  
** **September 28  
** **11:30 AM**

“Can I get you two anything?” the chirpy secretary asks as she shows Seungwoo and Wooseok in to Minpyo’s office. “Water, coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Seungwoo replies, giving her a gracious smile.

Wooseok smiles as well. “Can you just make sure we’re not disturbed?” 

“Of course! Just let me know if you need anything else.” The secretary nods and closes the door behind her. 

As soon as she’s gone, Wooseok turns to Seungwoo with a distressed look on his face. _“I thought you’d have to pry me away from her.”_

Seungwoo tries not to laugh. She _was_ getting a bit handsy with Wooseok as soon as they walked into the bank, going as far as to put a hand on his arm when she escorted them to Minpyo’s office. “I would have come to the wedding.” 

Wooseok gags and Seungwoo does laugh at that. “Curse my family and our good looking men,” Wooseok laments to the ceiling. He walks over to Minpyo’s desk and puts down the records he’s been carrying. He looks over to Seungwoo. “Well, where do you want to start?”

Seungwoo looks around the office. Nothing should have been touched since Minpyo’s death - the department made sure to keep the office sealed in case there were clues. Thus, the orderly and almost pristine condition of the office is normal. There doesn’t seem to be a paper out of place. There’s a bookshelf with notebooks, each exactly the same height and length. The desk looks straight out of a magazine. Even the small coffee table is perfectly placed in the center of the room. 

Seungwoo walks over to the bookshelf first. “Looks like he was pretty meticulous.”

“Anal is more like it,” Wooseok mumbles from behind him. “I’ve never seen a man’s office so... _clean.”_

Seungwoo snorts, then starts pulling the notebooks off the shelf, starting with the books dated from the last two weeks. Minpyo was killed a week ago, so something must have happened recently to trigger the murder. After he collects the notebooks from three months back, he puts them on the coffee table. “Let’s see if anything in his notebooks matches the records found at his home,” he says to Wooseok. He looks around. “If you start that, I’ll see if I can find anything else.”

Wooseok whines a bit, but takes the records off Minpyo’s desk and drops them onto the coffee table. Seungwoo gives him a confident pat on the back, then heads over to the bookcase again. Maybe something is hidden behind the notebooks, or the shelf itself. 

Seungwoo digs through the shelf for a few minutes, looking between all the notebooks, down the sides of the wood, even behind the shelf. Nothing. After, he walks to the desk and checks all the drawers, looking under papers and folders, even knocking against the wood to see if anything gives. Nothing. He knocks around the walls of the room, kicks at the floor, then tries the coffee table, moving around Wooseok and poking around the table, underneath the table, on top of the table and - 

“Nothing.” Wooseok throws his pencil down. “There’s _nothing.”_

“There has to be _something,”_ Seungwoo grumbles. He rolls himself into a sitting position next to the coffee table. Maybe there’s something hidden in in one of the chairs?

Wooseok kicks him in the shoe. “We’ve been here for _three hours.”_ He motions to the piles of papers on the table. “I’ve looked over the past three years worth of records. They all match.”

_“Everything?”_

“Everything.”

Seungwoo groans, sliding a hand down his face. This can’t be happening. There has to be something here. There _has_ to be. 

“What about back at his house?” Wooseok suggests, slamming one of the notebooks shut. “There may be something there that Technical Services missed.”

Seungwoo groans again and shakes his head in disbelief. “Guess it’s all we can do…” 

He helps Wooseok put everything back where it came from, and then grabs an armful of the records to head back to the bank lobby. “Tell you what,” Wooseok starts, opening the door for them. “We’ve sucked the past month.”

“Thanks for your confidence.”

“No, seriously, have we solved _any_ cases since we partnered up?”

Huh. Seungwoo thinks back to all the cases they’ve gotten since he transferred to Homicide. The Cha/Kang case ran cold. They got nowhere with the American soldier. And now this one. There have been a few other sprinkled in between, but Wooseok is right - they haven’t solved a case. 

“Well, shit,” Seungwoo murmurs. 

“And it has to be you and me,” Wooseok continues. “I refuse to believe the criminals around here are getting smarter.” He turns the corner to the lobby, but stops in his tracks. “Speak of the Devil…”

Seungwoo follows his gaze, and almost drops the records when he sees Seungyoun standing in the lobby. 

“We just can’t catch a break,” Wooseok mumbles under his breath, but not low enough that Seungyoun _doesn’t_ hear. 

Seungyoun turns his head towards them, and breaks out into a smile. “Good afternoon, Inspectors,” he brightly greets. 

Seungwoo tries not to panic at what may be a love bite on Seungyoun’s collarbone “W-what are you doing here?”

“This is my bank,” Seungyoun answers with a bit of a laugh and more confidence than Seungwoo. “All of the Red Room employees bank here actually. It’s the only bank in Yongsan that doesn’t have a minimum account requirement.” He pauses. “That, and you can’t get in without a bank I.D. card.” He points over to where a guard is standing outside of the main door. “Makes people feel a bit safer.”

That makes sense. A neighborhood like this has plenty of crime. If this is the only bank in the area, they better have good security measures. Seungwoo looks over to Wooseok, hoping he doesn’t look suspicious. Instead, Wooseok’s eyes widen. “You can’t come in without a bank card,” he says.

Seungwoo frowns, confused, but Wooseok grabs him by the shoulder. “Do we know if Minpyo took any clients at home?”

“I don’t think so,” Seungwoo answers, racking his brain to the interview he did with Dongpyo and his mother. He doesn’t remember them mention any business done at home. “It all must have been done here.”

Wooseok nods back. “And you can’t get in without a bank card.”

_Oh._

Seungwoo nearly drops the records again. You can’t get into this bank without a bank card. And the records found at Minpyo’s house must have been created here. So that means that Minpyo met that person here. 

And that person was on record.

Wooseok drops his stack of records on top of Seungwoo’s pile. “Let me get a list of all his clients.” He runs back towards the offices. 

Once he’s gone, Seungyoun laughs. “I might need to start charging you for my services,” he says. “Sounds like you two wouldn’t get too far without me.”

Seungwoo chuckles and turns to him. “Are you sure you don’t want a position with the department?” 

Seungyoun laughs back, shaking his head. “No, thank you. I’m pretty preoccupied with my current position.” He looks over to the other customers, then takes a step forward to Seungwoo. “Which...will I see you tonight at the club?”

Seungwoo looks over to the customers, then to the tellers behind the bank desks. No one seems interested in their conversation, and the secretary from before is busy with Wooseok.

So Seungwoo smiles back. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

__________

  
  


**Cho Residence, Apartment Complex, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **September 29  
** **1:22 AM**

“That’s it,” Seungyoun whispers, kissing along Seungwoo’s jaw. 

Seungwoo throws his head back against the pillow, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. His other hand grips Seungyoun’s arm, so hard that Seungyoun will probably bruise.

“You’re doing so _well,”_ Seungyoun continues, kissing from Seungwoo’s chin down to his neck, then to his collarbone. “So good for me, yeah?” 

Seungwoo whines behind his hand.

He can feel Seungyoun’s smile against his skin. “It feels good, right?” He pushes up back up and re-positions himself on his knees, careful not to jostle Seungwoo too much. “And _fuck,_ you look so pretty like this.” Seungyoun puts his hands on Seungwoo’s waist and gently rolls his hips, just enough so the rest of his cock slips inside Seungwoo.

Seungwoo screams again.

“Big Inspector, so hungry for my cock, huh?” Seungyoun rolls his hips again and Seungwoo arches off the bed. “Just wants to be stuffed full?”

He may come just like this, just with Seungyoun’s cock inside of him and whispering filthy words.

He’s never done this before, never had someone inside of him. He never even fucked himself with his own fingers before. It’s a completely new sensation, to be on the cusp of pain over pleasure, even though Seungyoun already worked Seungwoo open with his pretty hands. Seungwoo had come then, just from being fucked with Seungyoun’s fingers, and Seungyoun had almost called it a night until Seungwoo pulled him closer and begged _“Please.”_

The awed smile on Seungyoun’s face was breathtaking.

Seungyoun leans back down, taking Seungwoo’s hands away from his mouth. “I want to hear you,” he mumbles into Seungwoo’s lips, swallowing down Seungwoo’s moans. 

He hooks Seungwoo’s legs over his waist and begins moving, starting a slow rhythm that has Seungwoo clawing at his back. Seungwoo can feel every inch of Seungyoun’s cock inside of him, feel every drag as Seungyoun’s cock moves, and it has him moaning into Seungyoun’s mouth. “S-Seungyoun-“ Seungwoo moans again when one of Seungyoun’s hands reach for his dick. “Wait-“ 

He doesn’t get another word out. One smooth stroke and he’s coming over Seungyoun’s fist. 

“My, my,” Seungyoun chuckles, pulling back and stroking Seungwoo’s dick until he collapses back against the sheets. “That didn’t take long, did it?” 

Seungwoo is panting, not entirely sure what happened. He didn’t realize he was that wound up. “S-sorry,” he wheezes, feeling slightly embarrassed, especially when he feels Seungyoun’s dick still hard inside of him.

Seungyoun lets out a breathy laugh. “Don’t be sorry.” He runs a finger up Seungwoo’s chest and up to his lips. “Are you okay if I continue, darling?” he purrs, rolling his hips again.

Seungwoo pokes his tongue out to lap at Seungyoun’s finger. 

“Fuck,” Seungyoun growls, and hikes Seungwoo’s hips farther up his waist. Seungwoo pulls Seungyoun back down to his chest and buries his head into Seungyoun’s neck, holding him close as Seungyoun fucks him open. Blood is rushing to his ears and it’s almost like he’s underwater - all of his senses are muffled, and he can’t even tell how long Seungyoun fucks him for, how long he groans into Seungyoun’s neck before he feels Seungyoun’s release, hot and sticky inside of him.

Seungyoun growls deep in his chest before melting against Seungwoo’s body. Seungwoo keeps his arms wrapped around Seungyoun and holds him there, feeling their heart beats together. 

“So-” Seungyoun hums after a few silent moments. “Did you find anything else about the bank case?”

“Yeah, actually.” Seungwoo brushes some hair out of Seungyoun’s face so he can see him better. “A few men were in contact with our victim several days before he was killed.”

Seungyoun hums again, smiling. “So I’ll definitely leave you a bill with my charges?”

Seungwoo smiles back, clenching around Seungyoun to make him moan. “I can make it up to you now…” he whispers, and Seungyoun growls again. 

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **October 2  
** **12:24 PM**

“Hey-”

Something drops on the floor, Seungwoo’s head turn. Byungchan comes barreling through the office door, leaving Sejin a bit dazed and surrounded by dropped papers. “It took me two hours to put those in order!” Sejin whines, but Byungchan just bolts to Seungwoo’s desk, a bit out of breath.

“You were right,” he says, holding out a piece of paper. “About Lee Hangyul’s gold chain. Some idiot sold it to a pawn shop.”

Seungwoo drops his pencil. He snatches the paper out of Byungchan’s hands. A pawn shop on Bogwang Street 59-gil in Itaewon. The same main road where Yohan and Hangyul were robbed. He looks up to Byungchan. “Did you get an address for the seller?”

“Seungwoo.” Both Seungwoo and Byungchan turn to Wooseok, who’s at the desk next to them. “That’s not your case anymore,” Wooseok continues, motioning to Byungchan.

He’s right. Hangyul’s case is under Theft. Seungwoo has no business with them now - but Seungwoo was never one to let a case run cold. So he looks back over to Byungchan, expectant. 

Byungchan gets the idea and points to a name written under the pawn shop’s address. “Nam Dohyon. Lives over in Itaewon. In Noksapyeong.”

Nam Dohyon in Noksapyeong. Why is that familiar.

A chair scrapes against the floor and Wooseok lunges across the table, looking at the paper. “We have a Nam Dokyun,” he says. Seungwoo looks back at him, and Wooseok grabs at some papers on his desk. “One of Son Minpyo’s clients,” he explains, showing Seungwoo one of the records from the bank. “Address is listed in Noksapyeong.”

“Related?” Byungchan asks.

Seungwoo is already out of his seat. “We’ll find out.” 

__________

  
  


**Nam Residence, Noksapyeong Street, Itaewon Neighborhood  
** **October 2  
** **1:48 PM**

“Yongsang Police! Open up!” Wooseok calls, banging against the door. Seungwoo and Byungchan have their pistols drawn, waiting for any movement inside the home. Seungwoo walks over to a window and peers inside to what must be the sitting room. The lights are out, and from what Seungwoo can see, there’s nothing laying on the small coffee table. 

“Should I break down the door?” Wooseok asks.

Byungchan puts his gun back in his jacket. “Maybe they have a spare key lying around.” He walks over to the door and reaches up to the threshold, feeling around for a key. Wooseok grumbles under his breath, lightly kicking the door anyway. Seungwoo would laugh if the situation were different.

“What’s all the noise?”

Seungwoo turns to the neighboring home. An elderly woman is peeking her head out, frowning at the three of them. Seungwoo quickly steps forward, giving her a polite bow. “Ma’am, we’re looking for Nam Dohyon and Nam Dokyun. Have you seen them?”

The woman wrinkles her nose. “Of course. They go to the family’s dry cleaning shop every morning.” She points back towards the main street. “Right down the road.”

He catches Wooseok’s eyes, who nods and starts jogging back to the street. Seungwoo turns back to the old woman and bows again. “Thank you,” he says, then runs after Wooseok. He hears Byungchan follow.

The three make it to the road, turning the corner and Seungwoo runs right into Wooseok when the latter stops dead in his tracks. “There,” Wooseok pants, motioning to the shop across the street. Seungwoo smacks him in the back of the head for stopping, and Wooseok just swats at him. 

Byungchan catches up, panting as well. “Have a plan?” he heaves, bending over to put his hands on his knees.

“We don’t want to scare him off,” Seungwoo says, patting Byungchan on the back. “One person should go in.”

Byungchan stands up. “I’ll cover the back in case he runs.” 

Seungwoo nods, then turns to Wooseok. “Do you want to go in and I’ll stay out front?”

“Let’s do it,” Wooseok replies, straightening his hat. Byungchan joggs off first, finding an ally that leads to the back of the cleaners. After a few moments, Wooseok walks next, heading to the shop. Seungwoo follows. When Wooseok walks inside, Seungwoo leans against the wall next to the entrance, just out of sight.

“Hi, can I help you?” he hears a young voice ask.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Nam Dohyon?” Wooseok replies. “I think I received your mail by accident, and wanted to return it.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Seungwoo can’t hear anything in the shop, and he knows they’ve been caught. He doesn’t even wait for Wooseok to call him - he runs into the store, and Dohyon’s already running out the back of the shop.

 _“Shit,”_ Wooseok hisses, starting to run as well.

“Was that _really_ your plan?” Seungwoo yells back as he jumps over the counter.

“Like you could do better!” Wooseok fires back, sliding under the counter after Seungwoo. 

Seungwoo groans and keeps running, following Dohyon through the racks of clothing hanging on the conveyor. Dohyon knocks over some crates and boxes as he runs, spilling powder and some liquids on the floor. Seungwoo jumps over the spills as best he can, calling out “Watch it!” to Wooseok. Around a corner and Seungwoo sees Dohyon pulling at a door. “Stop!” he yells, and Dohyon whips his head, panicked. He’s momentarily frozen, so Seungwoo stops, raising his hands. “Easy...” he starts with, taking Dohyon in. He’s young, younger than Seugnwoo thought he’d be. Despite his height, he looks no older than sixteen. “Dohyon, we just need to-”

Dohyon whips his head back and swings opens the door. It leads outside and he takes off again. Wooseok finally catches up once Seungwoo starts after Dohyon, and Seungwoo sees his gun drawn. “He’s just a kid!” Seungwoo shouts to him. “Don’t shoot him!”

Wooseok gives him an incredulous look. “For the love of-” He stuffs his gun into his jacket, then turns back into the dry cleaners. “Keep following him that way!” he calls. 

Seungwoo runs out the door and into a back alley. He looks to the left, then right, and sees Dohyon with Byungchan on his trail. They’re headed back to the main street. If Seungwoo cuts between the other shops, he catch them if Byungchan can lead Dohyon back towards the shop. He trusts Byungchan’s instinct, and starts running opposite of where his Dohyon ran. 

There are a few people walking these streets, and Seungwoo dodges them as best he can, yelling “Out of the way!” as he goes. When he finally sees an opening between some houses, he takes it, squeezing between the walls to get to the main street. He turns his head and sees Dohyon running towards him. 

Seungwoo steps in his line of vision and takes out his gun - just to stop Dohyon in his tracks, fear written across his face. “I don’t want to shoot,” Seungwoo tells him, watching as Byungchan tip toes behind Dohyon. 

Dohyon puts his hands up. “I-I don’t know-“

_Wham._

Wooseok comes out of nowhere and tackles Dohyon to the ground, so hard that Seungwoo worries someone broke a bone. Byungchan startles and quickly goes to help Wooseok roll Dohyon onto his stomach, pinning Dohyon to the ground and getting his hands behind his back. Wooseok sits up and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Nam Dohyon, we’ve got some questions for you.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Dohyon cries, trying to get out underneath Wooseok.

Byungchan puts the handcuffs on him, then stands up. His friend hobbles up to him, leaning an arm on Seungwoo’s shoulder to catch his breath. “Tell that to Lee Hangyul and Kim Yohan,” he wheezes. 

Dohyon stops wiggling. _“Who?”_

“Don’t play dumb,” Wooseok growls, pulling Dohyon onto his feet. “You tried to sell a stolen chain yesterday at a pawn shop that was taken from a murder scene.” 

Dohyon’s eyes go wide. “I...did _what?”_ He blinks, giving a helpless look to Wooseok, then Seungwoo. “I-I didn’t sell any chain!”

 _“Sure,”_ Wooseok says, pushing forward and making Dohyon walk. He nods to Seungwoo and Byungchan. “I’ll take him to the car.” 

Byungchan nods back, still leaning on Seungwoo. “Kids these days…” he shakes his head. After a few seconds he stands upright. “Well, guess we should go back for Dokyun for your case.” He looks over to Seungwoo, then frowns. “What?”

Seungwoo is still frowning himself, watching Dohyon be escorted away. “He’s telling the truth.”

Byungchan blinks. “How can you tell?”

“His body language.” Seungwoo turns to Byungchan. “He wasn’t showing any signs of lying. No eye movements, no face twitches.”

Byungchan still looks confused, but nods along as Seungwoo speaks. “So...he really didn't know about the chain?”

“And he probably didn’t know about Yohan or Hangyul.” If Dohyon didn’t sell the chain, he couldn’t have known Hangyul was attacked or Yohan was killed. Did they get the name and address wrong? Is there another Nam Dohyon?

But if that was the case...

“So why did he run?”

Byungchan blinks again. “What?”

“Why did Dohyon run if he didn’t know about the chain?” Seungwoo answers, and he’s already walking away.

“Wait…” 

Seungwoo can hear the gears turning in Byungchan’s mind, so he turns back towards him, saying, “He ran. If he wasn’t guilty of something, he wouldn’t have fled.”

He doesn’t see Byungchan’s reaction because he turns around and jogs faster, mind reeling. Dohyon ran - he was running from the police for something. If it wasn’t about the chain, than what for?

He draws his gun when he makes it back to the shop. The front of the shop probably doesn’t have anything useful. If you had something to hide, you wouldn’t hide it in the busiest part of the shop. Still, Seungwoo pokes around, starting at the cash register. When Byungchan enters, he motions to the back. “Want to start by the clothes?”

“What exactly are we looking for?”

“Anything.”

Byungchan sighs, but walks behind the counter to where the clothes are hanging on the conveyor belt. 

Seungwoo looks back to the register. The cash seems normal, small bills and coins. The small cupboard underneath also looks ordinary. With nothing else of interest in the front of the shop, Seungwoo heads back to the clothes. Byungchan is weaving through the racks of clothes, looking frustrated and Seungwoo definitely won’t ask if he’s found anything. 

Instead, he moves to the back room. There are shelves filled with cleaners and chemicals, and washers that are as tall as the ceiling. He’s tempted to look inside the washers, but his eyes are drawn to something tucked in the shadows. Seungwoo shines his flashlight on the object - something covered in a large, black tarp. “Byungchan!” he calls. 

Byungchan comes into the room. Seungwoo motions to the tarp, and Byungchan understands. The two walk over to the tarp, and Seungwoo counts down, “Three, two, one!” 

They tear of the tarp to reveal stacks of crates. 

_“Soap?”_ Byungchan frowns, almost disappointed. 

Seungwoo takes the rest of tarp off the crates. It looks like all the same boxes, plain wooden crates with a soap label stamped into the wood. One of the lids is open, so Seungwoo takes his flashlight out and looks inside. 

Empty. 

_That’s odd._

Seungwoo motions for Byungchan to lift the crate, which he does. The crate underneath is sealed, but Seungwoo kicks it with his foot. It moves easily. So does the one next to that. And one on top. And another. 

“They’re all empty…” Seungwoo mumbles. 

Byungchan kicks another crate. “Why hide empty crates of soap?”

Why exactly. 

Seungwoo shines his flashlight between the crates. There doesn’t seem to be anything behind them - all the crates are stacked right against the wall.

There is something, though, caught underneath one.

Seungwoo bends down to get a closer look. It looks like paper, cut in a circular shape. Seungwoo bends the paper backwards to see the other side. “What the...,” he says. 

Byungchan shines his flashlight down. “That’s…” Byungchan shakes his head in disbelief when Seungwoo pulls the rest of the paper out from underneath the crate. “That’s the Army Garrison symbol.”

Seungwoo knows it well - an eagle in front of the American flag. It’s everywhere around the army base. And here it is now, a large paper label with hardened glue on the back. Seungwoo moves and shines the light back on the crates, moving in around until he sees some glue on the side of one of the crates. It’s a bit hard to see, because the soap label is stamped right over where the glue is. If the paper was glued to the crates, then - 

“Some if these crates are from the base.”

“Are you sure?” 

Seungwoo holds up the symbol. “This looks like it was attached to the crate here-” He motions to where his flashlight shines. “Ripped off, then the crate was painted over.”

Byungchan squints, then reaches between the crates and brushes his fingers against the glue. “So whatever was in here, it definitely wasn’t soap.”

“And worth hiding,” Seungwoo adds. Unfortunately, with the crates empty, there’s no way of knowing what was in them. Or how they ended up in a dry cleaning shop in Itaewon, of all places. They had to come from somewhere. Seungwoo would assume the American army would destroy any crates they were done using, so it’s not probable that these crates were simply found and taken by Dokyun. No matter what was in these crates, the Americans would keep it secure. They don’t let anything off their base without their knowledge. 

Unless...

Seungwoo puts down his flashlight. “Did you ever find what was stolen from the base a few weeks ago?” 

Byungchan shakes his head again. “No...” A few seconds later, he understands. “Y-you don’t think…”

Seungwoo nods, taking out his notebook and flipping to Roger Nero’s murder. “We’re only a mile or two away from the entrance to the base.” Roger Nero was murdered standing behind crates. Crates extremely similar to these, if Seungwoo remembers. He has a rough drawing in the notebook, but he’d bet that the crates here and at the base identical. And if they are, than maybe Nam Dokyun knows about the robbery. Maybe even the murder of Roger Nero.

Seungwoo closes his notebook. “We need to find Nam Dokyun.”

__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **October 2  
** **8:41 PM**

“Seungwoo.”

His heart stops when he hears Dongwook call his name. He and Wooseok turn to where their senior is poking his head into the office. Wooseok shoots up from his chair, and Seungwoo stops pacing. 

“He’s here,” Dongwook continues, tilting his head out of the door. 

Seungwoo doesn’t wait for the invitation. He picks up his notebook off his desk and follows Dongwook out of the office, down the hall and to the interrogation room. Seungwoo peaks through the window and sees a pudgy, middle-aged man swaying in the seat. “Where’d they pick him up?” he asks Dongwook. Dokyun looks half asleep.

“A bar a few neighborhoods over from the dry cleaning shop.” Dongwook sighs, turning to Seungwoo. “He’s been there since this morning.”

 _Of course_ his one suspect would be a drunk. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and then a supportive squeeze. “Try your best. He may remember something,” Dongwook encourages.

Seungwoo is not as optimistic, but he gives his senior a thankful smile. 

“And remember, we’re just looking for information about Minpyo. Nothing about the army base.”

Seungwoo nods. That will be Byungchan’s job, once he’s finished interrogating Dohyon. For now, he needs to focus on Son Minpyo’s murder. 

One firm nod from Dongwook and Seungwoo knows it’s time. “Hello, Mr. Nam,” Seungwoo greets, smiling as he opens the interrogation room door. He’s not even two steps in before the scent of liquor and sweat hit, enough to make his nose turn. “I’m Inspector Han. I have a few questions for you about your relationship with Son Minpyo.” He puts his notebook down and slides into the seat across from Dokyun. 

Dokyun doesn’t seem to hear him. He continues to sway in his seat. 

Seungwoo leans in closer, then louder. “Mr. Nam?”

Nam hears that. He jolts in his seat, sitting straight up. “M-minpyo,” he slurs. Seungwoo sees his eyes bounce around, unable to focus. He’s surprised Nam can even sit straight. 

“Yes, Son Minpyo. Could you tell me about your relationship?”

“I-I didn’t kill him.” Dokyun hiccups over the last few words, and Seungwoo sees him hold back a stomach heave. 

“I didn’t ask that at all,” Seungwoo answers, getting up and walking over to the garbage bin in the room. “I just asked what your relationship was.” He moves the can next to Dokyun - just in case.

Dokyun groans. “He was my banker.”

“How long have you been banking with him?”

“Uh…” Dokyun rolls his eyes, thoughtful. “S-six years.”

“For your business, or personal banking?”

That makes Dokyun bark out a laugh. “I’m _broke.”_

Huh.

“Your business must be doing extremely well to be depositing hundreds of thousands of won every few months.”

Dokyun tilts his head. Seungwoo can see him think, obviously not understanding what Seungwoo said. He sighs to himself, reaching for a folder on the table and pulling out the bank records he and Wooseok found. “Is this your bank account at SM Bank?”

Dokyun leans over. “Yep.”

“Where did you get all this money?”

“Business.”

“So your business is doing extremely well, but you yourself are broke?” Seungwoo leans back in his chair. “Why do I not believe you?” 

Dokyun belches. “Dry cleaning chemicals are expensive.”

“How much business would you say you get every week?”

“Pretty good.”

“Enough to be depositing-” 

“Officer,” Dokyun interrupts, belching again. “I don’t think-” He teeters a bit on the chair, and Seungwoo worries he’ll fall off. “I don't think you know what you’re talking about. I’m j-just an honest businessman.”

Seungwoo clenches his fist. Even though Dokyun is drunk off his ass, he knows that nothing can touch him if he denies any accusations. They have nothing on him other than a few eye raising deposits. He can’t even link Dokyun to the mysterious deposits found at Dokyun’s house. Seungwoo needs to catch him in a trap.

“I think I do.” Seungwoo tries his best to keep his voice as level as possible. “Let’s be honest, Nam: a man like yourself probably isn’t making four hundred thousand won owning a dry cleaning store.”

“Good business,” Dokyun smiles. “And you can’t arrest a man for t-that.” 

“I’m thinking you have something on the side?” Seungwoo asks, leaning forward. “Something that only Minpyo knew about?”

“No.”

The goofy smile is still on Dokyun’s face, and Seungwoo wishes for nothing more than to watch it crack. “Did you kill Son Minpyo?” he goes with. He frowns at Dokyun, staring at his face for any sign of lying.

“No,” Dokyun says again. Though he wobbles a bit, his face is steady.

He’s telling the truth.

There’s a tap on the glass. Seungwoo turns and sees Wooseok waving him out of the room. He silently curses, getting up out of his chair and grabbing his notebook. “Excuse me,” he mumbles to Dokyun before he leaves out the door.

“Let me try,” Wooseok says, patting Seungwoo on the shoulder. “Good cop, bad cop?”

“Good luck trying to get any answers…” Seungwoo mumbles back. Wooseok is not deterred, though. He just gives a hopeful smile and heads into the room. 

Once the door is closed, Dongwook walks over to Seungwoo, back to the window. “We can keep him here until he sobers up and can answer more questions.” He sighs shaking his head. “But he’s right - we can’t link him depositing money to murder.”

“There’s got to be _something,”_ Seungwoo growls. There always is. Something has to link Nam to Minpyo’s murder. “What about his records for sales? See if he actually made the money?”

Dongwook nods. “That sounds like a start.” He pauses for a moment, turning his head a bit towards the window, then back to Seungwoo. “How about you go take a walk?”

Seungwoo blinks. “Sir, I’m-”

One look from Dongwook and Seungwoo knows it’s best not to argue. 

So instead, he gives his senior a weak nod, then walks away from the interrogation room, making his way back to the front of the station. There, he flops himself on a bench across from the secretary. It’s quiet at this time of hour - just what Seungwoo needs right now. He needs to think.

He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. Okay, so Dokyun probably is telling the truth - he didn’t kill Minpyo. So someone else did. But that doesn’t explain all of the money Dokyun was depositing. Nor does it explain the American base’s crates found in the shop. Dokyun must be hiding _something._

He groans, running a hand down his face. Maybe Wooseok was right - maybe the two of them are losing their touch with these cases. There is no way a drunk like Dokyun could have stolen crates from the Americans or make hundreds of million won in a month. There has to be a piece Seungwoo is missing.

Seungwoo just doesn’t know _what._

“I hope you’re having better luck than I am.”

Seungwoo snorts, not even opening his eyes. “Nope,” he replies. He feels Byungchan take a seat next to him on the bench. “How about you?”

“Not even close,” Byungchan growls. “Dohyon is adamant that he knew nothing about the necklace. Said he’s never seen it before.”

Seungwoo opens one eye. “And Yohan and Hangyul?”

“No idea.” 

Of course.

Seungwoo sighs and closes his eye again. “So how the hell did his name and address end up in a pawn shop?”

“I’ll head back to the shop. See if the owner can remember the person who dropped the necklace off.” Seungwoo feels Byungchan nudge his arm. “Any luck with Dokyun?”

“He hasn’t vomited yet on the floor.”

That makes Byungchan snort. “Dongwook said he was a mess. Anything about Minpyo?”

Seungwoo opens his eyes, shaking his head. “I think Dokyun didn’t kill Minpyo. Which means I’m back to square one.” 

“Well, here’s hoping I can get something out of him.”

“I hope…” Seungwoo mumbles, still staring up at the ceiling. 

“Hey.” Byungchan nudges his shoulder again, and Seungwoo looks over to him. “We’ll get him,” Byungchan says, giving Seungwoo a small smile. 

Seungwoo can’t bring himself to smile back. “What if we _don’t?”_

“You always do.”

Byungchan says it with a smile and sincerity, but something about it makes Seungwoo’s stomach churn. He’s always caught the bad guys, always cracked the case. 

But what if he _can’t_ this time.

What if this is another case run cold? 

He is an inspector - it’s his job to keep the city safe. If he can’t do that, Seungwoo would lose his reputation, maybe even his job. But that isn’t what Seungwoo’s most worried about.

What if Hangyul never finds out who killed his best friend? 

What if Minhee and Junho’s parents never get any closure for their sons? 

What if Dongpyo never gets justice for his father? 

He has people depending on him. He can’t let them down. 

But what if he _can’t._

  
  


__________

  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **October 2  
** **10:09 PM**

Seungwoo doesn’t bother getting a table tonight, doesn’t need one. Instead, he goes right backstage, walking past the band and waiters and other employees, right to Seungyoun’s dressing room. He knocks on the door as soon as he can reach the wood. 

Seungyoun opens the door, shirt half buttoned you, and startles when he sees Seungwoo. “What are you-”

Seungwoo walks in and pushes Seungyoun with him, slamming the door behind him with his foot since his hands are busy wrapping themselves around Seungyoun’s waist.

 _“Hey, hey,”_ Seungyoun says, trying to get around Seungwoo’s mouth. He brings his hands up to Seungwoo’s face, cupping his cheeks. “Is everything okay?”

Seungwoo leans in for a kiss. “Bad day.” 

Seungyoun pulls away again, looking a bit worried. “Want to talk about it?” he asks softly, brushing some of Seungwoo’s hair off of his face. 

“No.” Seungwoo shakes his head. “No, I just-” He leans in again, trying to get his mouth on Seungyoun’s, trying to get their bodies closer. “Can we just-”

_“Seungwoo.”_

Seungyoun’s tone is firm, more serious than Seungwoo has ever heard. It has him blinking, pulling away, now realizing that he’s barged in on Seungyoun. “O-oh.” He didn’t tell Seungyoun he was coming, nor does Seungwoo usually come on Wednesdays. And while Seungyoun doesn’t look upset, Seungwoo can see the worry and confusion on his face.

“Fuck, sorry,” Seungwoo stutters, dropping his hands from Seungyoun’s waist. “I shouldn’t have-“

Seungyoun pulls him back. “It’s fine,” he whispers, a slight smile on his face. “You know you can come here whenever you need to.” He cups Seungwoo’s face again, kissing him. “Just...are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Seungwoo replies a bit breathless. “Can we...talk after?”

Seungyoun doesn’t respond right away. He spends a few seconds looking over Seungwoo’s face again. Then, Seungyoun moves them both, leading them to the couch. “After,” he promises, gently kissing Seungwoo. 

It has Seungwoo whining - he doesn’t want soft right now. He needs Seungyoun’s body against his, until they both are gasping for air and Seungwoo can’t remember his own name.

Thankfully, Seungyoun gets the message. 

“I’ve got you,” Seungyoun whispers, kissing along Seungwoo’s jaw. He pushes Seungwoo down to the couch and climbs on Seungwoo’s lap, catching their lips together and grinding his hips down. 

That has Seungwoo groaning. _“Seungyoun-“_

“What do you need?” Seungyoun brushes their noses together, but his hips still move against Seungwoo’s. 

_“You,”_ Seungwoo breathes. He lifts his hips to meet Seungyoun, groaning when pleasure shoots up his spine. “I need you-”

“You have me,” Seungyoun whispers back, and Seungwoo kisses him again.

  
  


__________

  
  


**Han Residence, Wonhyo Street Apartments, Wonhyo Neighborhood  
** **October 3  
** **1:02 AM**

Seungwoo startles when he hears the bedroom door open. He freezes, and the show he was about to take off hangs precariously on his toe.

Eunji turns on the hallway light and walks out, rubbing her eyes. “I thought that was you…” she mumbles.

Seungwoo gulps, hoping the light isn't shining on him. “Sorry.” He gently removes his one shoe, then waves his hand. “Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Eunji takes a few steps forward and Seungwoo tries not to panic. “Why are you home so late?” she asks, yawning. “Did something happen?”

“No, just...bad day.” He slips his other shoe off and backs up to the closet. He takes off his jacket and opens the closet door. “We can talk in the morning. I have off, remember?”

That seems to do it. Eunji yawns again and nods her head, turning back to the bedroom. Once she’s through the door, Seungwoo lets out the breath he was holding and collapses against the wall. That was too close. He takes a few breaths before closing the closet and burying the jacket underneath their laundry pile by the washing machine. The rest of his clothes follow, until he’s standing in nothing but his underwear in the hallway. 

He’s lucky tomorrow is his turn to wash the laundry, or else Eunji would have the chance to smell sweat, smoke, and Seungyoun’s cologne. 

Seungwoo tip toes to the bedroom, softly closing the door behind him. Eunji is already tucked back in bed and deeply breathing, so Seungwoo takes the chance to put on sleepwear. A quick face wash in the bathroom hopefully takes off Seungyoun’s scent, and Seungwoo says a silent prayer before slipping into bed next to Eunji. His wife hums, turning over to face him. “Love you,” she whispers.

“Love you, too,” Seungwoo lies. 


	4. Act IV

**Act IV**

**_It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn._ **

**Wuthering Heights**

  
  
  


**Cho Residence, Apartment Complex, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **October 23  
** **9:12 PM**

“Hey, stranger,” Seungyoun greets with a warm smile and bright eyes, already pulling Seungwoo into the apartment. Once the door is closed, Seungyoun’s body is against his, arms wrapped around Seungwoo’s neck and lips mouthing at Seungwoo’s jaw.

It’s almost funny to Seungwoo, how it feels like he’s come home. 

“Hi,” he says back, moving so he can get to Seungyoun’s lips. “I missed you.”

Seungyoun hums against his mouth. “I missed you too.” A quick peck and he leans back, smile playful. “And don’t worry - I kept the city safe while you were away.”

That has Seungwoo laughing. “Wooseok _did_ say that it was unusually quiet while I was gone.”

“I take my job very seriously,” Seungyoun laughs back. “No bad guys on watch.” One more kiss and he pulls Seungwoo to the couch, pushing him down to sit. Seungwoo sighs and relaxes against the cushions, closing his eyes. The day back from a vacation is always stressful: piles of paperwork, updates from Wooseok, and keeping himself from banging his head against the desk when he heard Byungchan wasn’t able to pin Dokyun down for any crimes. It feels good to take off his shoes and jacket and melt into the couch.

“Long day?” Seungyoun asks, and Seungwoo can hear the smile in his voice.

He hums in response, listening as Seungyoun moves around the apartment, opening some cabinets and pouring drinks. After a few moments, the record player turns on, playing Seungyoun’s favorite song. The couch sinks next to Seungwoo, and he feels Seungyoun curl up next to him. He doesn’t open his eyes as he leans his head down, blindly looking for Seungyoun’s lips. 

“Careful or you might spill your drink,” Seungyoun chuckles. 

That makes Seungwoo open his eyes. Seungyoun holds out a glass of soju for him, which he takes with one hand. His other arm wraps around Seungyoun’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. Seungyoun reaches up and takes Seungwoo’s hand, playing with his fingers. They fall into a comfortable silence, sighing against each other and listening to the music. 

This is how home should feel like.

Seungwoo takes a drink. “You cut your hair,” he says, now noticing Seungyoun’s hair it a bit shorter than it was two weeks ago.

“A bit.” He sits up and runs a hand through it. “It was getting long. How does it look?”

He gives Seungwoo a goofy smile and crossed eyes, and there is no other word that Seungwoo can say other than, _“Perfect.”_

It makes Seungyoun smile wider. He throws back his drink, setting the glass on the table so he can sit himself in Seungwoo’s lap. “So, how was Busan?” 

“Nice.” He takes a drink, wrapping his free arm around Seungyoun’s waist. “I haven’t seen my sister in a while. She’s pregnant.”

“Uncle Seungwoo?” Seungyoun chuckles. 

“Yeah.” It’s still strange to hear. He’s going to be an uncle soon. “And my parents are good. Always worrying, but good.” And Eunji’s family is fine, but Seungwoo isn’t going to say that. Not now.

“Of course they worry. You’ve got a dangerous job.” Seungyoun huffs a bit, reaching up to move Seungwoo’s hair off his forehead. “Did you go to the beach?” He leans down and presses a light kiss to Seungwoo’s head. 

Seungwoo smiles. “Of course. My sister and I had a picnic. The weather was perfect, not too cold. And she brought these fish cakes that our parents make that are the best I’ve ever had.” 

“Sounds like you had a great time,” Seungyoun smiles. 

“I did. I’m glad I went.” Seungwoo finishes his drink and hands the empty glass to Seungyoun, who twists and puts it next to the other in the table. When he turns back, Seungwoo catches his lips, sighing as Seungyoun kisses him back. “I missed you.” 

Seungyoun hums into the kiss, moving away from Seungwoo’s lips after a few seconds. “How much?” He whispers in Seungwoo’s ear. 

“So much,” Seungwoo responds immediately. He leans his head to the side, letting Seungyoun press kisses down to his shoulder. “So, so much.” Ten days away was long, too long to be away from Seungyoun. 

“I missed you, too.” Seungyoun’s fingers start unbuttoning Seungwoo’s shirt. “Missed seeing you at the club.” 

His fingers untuck Seungwoo’s shirt from his pants.

“Missed kissing you.” 

Seungwoo’s belt buckle is undone.

 _“Fucking_ you.”

Seungyoun slides his hand into Seungwoo’s pants, cupping his dick. 

Seungwoo arches, grabbing into Seungyoun’s arms. _“Seungyoun-“_

“How about it, Inspector?” Seungyoun purrs, taking his own shirt off and throwing it off to the side. “Would you like me to fuck you?” He reaches and helps Seungwoo pull his shirt over his head. “Or you can fuck me, if you’d like.” He grinds down on Seungwoo’s lap, rolling their hips together. “I’m not picky.”

Honestly, Seungwoo doesn’t care what they do. He just needs to get Seungyoun out of these clothes and off of the couch. 

So he wraps his arms around Seungyiun’s waist and moves to stand up. It doesn’t go as graceful as Seungwoo would have hoped - he nearly topples down into the floor - but Seungyoun lets out a surprised squeal that turns into a laugh. He wraps himself closer around Seungwoo, kissing him as Seungwoo moves them to the bed. It’s all smiles and laughter, and Seungwoo feels his heart swell.

He’s finally home.

__________

  
  


**Lee Residence, Dongbinggo Street Apartments, Dongbinggo Neighborhood  
** **October 24  
** **11:34 AM**

Seungwoo gives three quick knocks, rocking back on his feet as he waits for the door to be opened. It’s always a bit nerve wracking going to a victim’s home. Thankfully, this was not bad news.

A small, middle aged woman opens the door. “Can I help you?” she slowly asks.

“Mrs. Lee?” Seungwoo asks, taking his hat off. “My name is Han Seungwoo, I was the Inspector on your son’s case.”

“Oh!” The woman’s eyes light up. “Yes, yes. Come in.” She opens the door further, and Seungwoo gives her a gracious nod. He follows her into the modest sized home, waiting in the living area. 

“Do you need me to get him?” Hangyul’s mother asks, wiping her hands on her apron.

Seungwoo shakes his head. “I have something to return.” His hand automatically goes to his jacket pocket where the gold chain is. 

Mrs. Lee notices, and must guess what he has. Her eyes light up again. “I’ll go get him now,” she starts, walking over to the hallway.

“Before you do-” Seungwoo bites his lips, peeking over Hangyul’s mother’s shoulder, in case Hangyul can hear them. “How has he been?”

The light in her eyes dim. “Sad,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It’s been hard.”

It’s not surprising, but it still makes Seungwoo’s stomach sink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Mrs. Lee shakes her head again. “I’m just thankful he wasn’t the one killed.”

Seungwoo can understand that. He also can understand how Hangyul must be feeling, losing his best friend, being the one to live while another dies. There is nothing worse than survivor guilt. 

Hangyul’s mother returns after a few moments. “He’s in his room.” She holds out her arm for Seungwoo to follow. He mumbles a polite “Thank you” as he walks by. 

Hangyul’s room door is open, but Seungwoo still knocks against the doorframe. Hangyul is curled up in a chair by a desk, arms wrapped around his legs and head leaning against his knees. He looks absolutely helpless and Seungwoo’s stomach sinks again. “Hi, Hangyul,” he says softly, trying to smile.

Hangyul gives him a weak smile back, head not moving from on top of his knees. “Hi, Inspector.”

Seungwoo moves and sits down on Hangyul’s bed, making sure there is enough space between them. He doesn’t want to crowd Hangyul and make him feel uncomfortable in his own room. “We found your necklace,” he says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the gold chain. He holds it out for Hangyul. 

The boy sucks in a breath, taking the chain with shaking hands. “D-did you find…” His voice trails off, but his eyes are pleading - _did you find who killed my friend._

It makes Seungwoo’s stomach sink, having to shake his head and grimly answer, “No. Not yet.” 

Hangyul immediately deflates. His shoulders sag, his head drops back down to his knees, and Seungwoo wishes he could tell Hangyul that they found the person responsible, wishes he could make this right. 

But there is nothing he can say or do that will bring back Yohan. 

Seungwoo moves himself over on the bed, a bit closer to Hangyul.“I...don’t remember if I told you but…” He reaches out and puts a hand on Hangyul’s chair. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

That makes Hangyul bite his lip, and Seungwoo can see how his body shakes trying to hold back a sob. _“I miss him so much…”_ Hangyul chokes, clutching the chain close to his chest. “W-we were going to graduate together. We made a bet for whoever got higher grades at the end of the year…” His voice is starting to crack. “And-d go to Incheon...and the beach…”

Seungwoo’s heart breaks, one piece at a time. 

“I never got to tell...” Hangyul’s voice trails off. After a few seconds of silence, he gives a rough laugh and shakes his head. He turns to Seungwoo, eyes wet. “You’ll find who did this?” he croaks. He doesn’t wipe away the tears when they fall. “You’ll find who killed my best friend?” His voice cracks over the word _friend_ , and the tears fall harder. 

There’s an unsettlingly familiar way Hangyul cries over Yohan, as if he’s lost his entire world and no one will ever fill that void. 

Seungwoo swallows down sinking feeling in his stomach. “I promise.”

It’s a promise he can’t promise to keep.

  
  


__________

  
  


**Cho Residence, Apartment Complex, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **October 26  
** **9:32 PM**

It’s getting cold. 

Seungwoo shivers, pulling his jacket closer to his body. The fall air is drying out to a winter’s chill, and it’s not even November yet. He’ll have to make a note to buy himself a new winter’s coat. His current jacket is doing nothing to stop the wind from chilling him to the bone. Maybe he’ll go shopping on Sunday with Eunji. That should make her happy. She was understandably upset when Seungwoo called her before leaving work today and said he had to stay late, but understood that there was still a lot of catching up Seungwoo had to do since their vacation. 

He will have to make another note and buy Eunji a gift for her patience. Seungwoo is walking on thin ice around her, and the last thing he needs is to mess everything up. 

But, then again, here he is: walking through the back entrance to his lover’s apartment complex.

He slams the entrance shut. He’s not going to think about this now. He’s here to see Seungyoun. 

Which, once he’s up the three flights of stairs, he opens the door to walk into the hall and-

He freezes, one foot not even coming down to the ground. 

Seungyoun’s door is open and he is there, in the doorway, speaking to a woman in low tones. His arms are crossed over his chest and he looks serious, and he shakes his head at something she says. The woman’s voice raises and Seungwoo immediately recognizes it - Hyejin. 

Hyejin is here. 

Seungwoo almost walked out on her. 

On the way to have sex with Seungyoun in Seungyoun’s apartment. 

He doesn’t know if it’s Hyejin’s raised voice or his movement that causes Seungyoun to look up at him. If he reacts in his face, Seungwoo can’t tell. But Seungyoun does straighten up in the doorway and stretch his arms over his head, moving his wrist in a way that looks like he’s pushing Seungwoo back into the stairs. As he does, he speaks louder, just loud enough so Seungwoo can close the stairwell door again without drawing attention to himself.

Seungwoo leans himself against the stairway wall, making sure his breathing stays even. He’s feeling lightheaded. If he had noticed a second later, Hyejin may have turned to see him somewhere he has no business. What excuse could he have come up with explaining why he was taking a back entrance, to the third floor of this apartment building, with a suitcase? 

He almost got _caught._

He needs to sit down.

Sinking down to the ground, Seungwoo puts his head in his hands. His ears are ringing and he feels as if he’s underwater. 

He almost got _caught._

“Seungwoo...”

Seungwoo takes a deep breath, not bothering to lift his head. “Was that Hyejin?”

“Yeah,” Seungyoun replies. Seungwoo feels his hand card through his hair. “She just moved here, fifth floor.” 

Now Seungwoo looks up, a bit panicked. “How long-”

“Only two weeks. She moved in while you were away.” Seungyoun sighs, shaking his head. “I was going to tell you.” His hands still run through Seungwoo’s hair, and the touch has Seungwoo feeling a bit better. “Are you okay?”

Seungwoo takes a deep breath to stop his heart from racing. After a few seconds, looks back up at Seungyoun. “C-can we...” He motions to Seungyoun’s door. They shouldn’t be here for too long and risk having someone else see them together. 

Seungyoun gets the idea and helps Seungwoo up from the ground and leads them both into his apartment. Once there, he settles Seungwoo on the couch, coaxing his jacket off his shoulders and undoing his tie. He leaves Seungwoo for a few moments to grab a glass from a cabinet. Seungwoo doesn’t pay Seungyoun any mind as he moves around. He’s so lost in his thoughts, so overwhelmed from how hard is heart is beating, that he even jumps when Seungyoun appears in front of him and presses a glass of water into his hands. 

Seungwoo takes a gulp. “W-what was Hyejin asking about?”

“Work drama.” Seungyoun flops next to Seungwoo on the couch, curling into his chest. “Some bullshit about set lengths. She thinks Yongsun is trying to take over her set time, and wants me on her side in case things go south.” 

Okay. That’s good. Nothing about him or Seungyoun. 

Yet.

Seungwoo shivers. “Do you think anyone else…?”

Seungyoun’s hand his back in his hair before he can even finish. “My neighbor is an alcoholic who spends most of his nights at the bar down the road. My other neighbor skipped town about two months ago and never came back. Landlord hasn’t been able to sell the room since.” Seungyoun noses his cheek. “Besides Hyejin, no one in the building knows you or me.”

That’s true. Seungwoo doesn’t know anyone in this part of town. And from what Seungyoun has told him, most tenants in this building run in completely different circles. They wouldn’t know Seungwoo from anywhere (“Unless,” Seungyoun laughed one night. “If you’re arresting them.”). It’s why they changed from meeting in Seungyoun’s dressing room to his apartment. This was their safe haven away from the rest of the world. 

And they almost got caught.

“We can stop,” Seungyoun says again, after a few moments.

Seungwoo blinks. _“No,_ n-no, I don’t want to-“

“Seungwoo,” Seungyoun sighs, sitting straighter on the couch and away from Seungwoo. “You can leave at any time.”

“I don’t want to leave.” Seungwoo puts his glass of water down, then reaches out to take Seungyoun’s hand. “I _want_ to be here, with you. It’s just-“ 

“We’re risking a lot,” Seungyoun finishes. He pauses, then gives Seungwoo a sad smile and squeezes his hand. _“You’re_ risking a lot.” 

Both of their eyes go to Seungwoo’s hand, to his ring finger. Seungwoo has made a habit of taking his ring off before he gets to Seungyoun’s apartment, but the feeling is always there, a burning reminder that Seungwoo is an adulterer, sinning in the worst of ways. It’s a reminder that he can never truly have Seungyoun, and Seungyoun will never be able to call Seungwoo his. 

The thought has Seungwoo roughly laughing. “I’m a horrible person.”

“You’re a man who’s sexuality has been suppressed his entire life.”

Seungwoo snorts. “You’re making me sound better than I actually am.”

The sad smile stays on Seungyoun’s face. “We can stop,” he says again.

Seungwoo furiously shakes his head. “I don’t _want_ to.” He leans in and cups Seungyoun’s face. “I don’t want to stop this. I want _you._ Any way that I can have you.”

There is a few seconds of silence before the sad smile on Seungyoun’s face turns a bit smug. “You can have me now,” he whispers, his tongue peeking out between his lips, close to where Seungwoo’s hand is. “Any way you like.”  
  
Oh.

Heat creeps up Seungwoo’s face, and Seungyoun’s signature smirk appears. “Han Seungwoo, are you _blushing?”_

 _“No!”_ he squeals back, even though he _knows_ he’s bright red. 

As usual, Seungyoun just smiles back. “Don’t worry,” he purrs, turning his face to kiss Seungwoo’s palm. He reaches up to take Seungwoo’s hand, moving his lips down to Seungwoo’s wrist, right above his pulse. He looks up, eyes dark. “I like when you get like this.” 

Seungwoo gulps. 

No matter how many times they are together, no matter how many times they share a bed, Seungyoun always makes Seungwoo dizzy, an intoxicating blend of want and _need._ And all it takes is one more kiss to his wrist and Seungwoo is at Seungyoun’s mercy. 

He lets Seungyoun get him up to his feet and guide him to bed. Their lips are already pressed together by the time Seungyoun lies down, pulling Seungwoo on top of him. “Can you fuck me, darling?” Seungyoun asks between kisses. His fingers are brushing against Seungwoo’s stomach, right where his shirt rides up. “Pretty please?”

Seungwoo gulps again. “Yeah,” he breathes, licking his lips. “Yeah, I can fuck you.”

Seungyoun smiles. _“Good,”_ and pulls Seungwoo down for a kiss. 

Seungwoo fucks him on his hands and knees. He drapes himself over Seungyoun’s back, moaning into Seungyoun’s shoulder as Seungyoun fucks himself back on his cock, so hard the bed creaks underneath them. Seungyoun grabs at him every chance he gets, reaching back to find Seungwoo’s hip, his arm, his ass - anything to get Seungwoo closer, even though Seungwoo is melted against every inch of Seungyoun’s body. Seungwoo is so deeply buried inside Seungyoun that they barely part; and when they do, when Seungwoo moves so he can fuck in Seungyoun just how he likes, Seungyoun collapses beanth him, down to the mattress, and Seungwoo has no choice but to follow. He fucks Seungyoun into the mattress until he feels tears against Seungyoun’s face, until he feels Seungyoun lock under him, until Seungyoun’s body sucks his orgasm right out.

“I don’t regret this,” Seungyoun whispers after they finish, when his chest is still heaving and Seungwoo is still inside of him. Seungwoo’s eyes are growing heavy and can’t see his face, but he can hear the sincerity, hear how Seungyoun means what he says. 

He kisses the back of Seungyoun’s neck. “Neither do I,” he whispers, and it’s only seconds until his eyes close.

__________

  
  


**Cho Residence, Apartment Complex, Ichon Neighborhood  
** **October 27  
** **7:52 AM**

Seungwoo doesn’t remember the last time he’s slept this deep. He wakes up in a haze, so thick he can’t even open his eyes. It’s tempting to roll over and go back to sleep, but he realizes that the bed is disappointedly cold.

Seungwoo pouts. He does _not_ want to wake up alone. He wants to cuddle with Seungyoun for a few minutes, maybe sneak a few kisses before he leaves. The pout only deepens when Seungwoo blindly reaches out, seeing of Seungyoun rolled away while he slept. His hand hits nothing but curled up sheets.

“Good morning, handsome.”

Ah, there we go. 

Seungwoo hums, smiling. “You should have woken me up,” he mumbles, curling to his side to face Seungyoun’s voice. He can hear the other pad across the apartment, then a gentle hand is brushing through his hair.

“I can see the circles under your eyes,” Seungyoun chides. “You needed the sleep.”

He must have. He doesn’t even remember moving once they settled after sex. 

Seungwoo peeks an eye open to make sure Seungyoun doesn’t have anything in his hands. He doesn’t - and is also only dressed in loose fitting sleepwear bottoms - so Seungwoo reaches up and wraps an arm around Seungyoun’s body, pulling him down to the bed. “Then you should have stayed in bed with _me,”_ he whines. Seungyoun puts up no fight and falls over him, sighing as he does. It takes some maneuvering to get Seungyoun back under the covers, but they manage. Seungwoo takes delight when Seungyoun curls up against him, nuzzling into his neck.

The content silence lasts for a few minutes. “Sorry about last night,” Seungwoo eventually says. It’s been in his mind, and he needs to say something. 

Seungyoun yawns, burying his face deeper into Seungwoo’s neck. “What for?”

“Getting upset.”

“You had every right to,” Seungyoun replies, still not moving. He sounds like he’s falling back asleep. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Still…”

Seungyoun just shakes his head against Seungwoo’s neck, but doesn’t say anything this time. His breathing gets deeper and Seungwoo thinks he may actually fall asleep, but right as Seungwoo begins to lull as well, as soon as Seungwoo begins to think another hour wouldn’t hurt, Seungyoun freezes, so hard that Seungwoo can feel his body stop.

“Wha-“

Seungyoun shoots up, alert. “Do you hear that?”

“Uh-“ Seungwoo sits up too, trying to hear what Seungyoun does. All he hears is silence and a few footsteps above their heads.

Seungyoun doesn’t wait for an answer. He jumps out of bed, running to the door. He cracks it open, peeking his head out and - 

_“Shit!”_ Seungyoun closes the door and his head whips around. “There’s police here.”

That gets Seungwoo jumping. He throws himself out of bed, already running over to where he threw his closes last night. _“Wh-what?”_

Seungyoun doesn’t answer, too busy picking up Seungwoo’s clothes and throwing them to him. “You need to get out of here.”

Seungwoo nearly trips trying to pull up his underwear. “B-but the hallway-”

“The window!” Seungyoun hisses, throwing Seungwoo’s shirt over his head for him. “Down the fire escape, through the alley.” He motions to the window. “You should be covered.”

Seungwoo nods and grabs his pants, putting his feet through the top. Seungyoun takes charge and pulls them up for him, and Seungwoo can focus on buttoning his shirt. He’s dressed in a matter of seconds, finishing by slipping into his shoes and throwing anything else into his suitcase. It’s not even closed properly, but Seungwoo is opening the window and heading out, one leg at a time.

“Wait.” Seungyoun grabs him by the jacket collar, pulling him back over the window pane to give him a kiss. When they part, Seungyoun has his playful smirk on his lips. “Let’s not make this a habit, yeah?”

Despite the fear, Seungwoo laughs. “My mother always warned me about sneaking out of apartments when I was a teenager.”

Seungyoun laughs back at him, then gives one more kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

It’s not a question, and Seungwoo does not need to answer.

He swings himself out of the window and onto the fire escape, trying to make as little noise as possible. He hopes the tenants are busy with the police, or are still in bed. Scurrying like a mouse, Seungwoo makes his way down the two flights of stairs, keeping an ear out for any officers or movement below in the alley. Thankfully, his feet hit the ground and nothing seems to move. It’s just him and some dumpsters, and if Seungyoun is right, all he has to do is follow this alley around the building and he can slip through the side and - 

“Seungwoo!”

He nearly drops to the ground.

There, in front of him, turning the corner to the alley, is Jinhyuk. 

“Shit, they weren’t kidding when they said backup was on their way,” Jinhyuk greets, all smiles and teasing and Seungwoo thinks he stopped breathing. “Guess Dongwook couldn’t trust me on my own, huh? That’s why they sent you?” 

_Lie._

“Y-yeah,” Seungwoo replies, hoping Jinhyuk doesn’t question why he’s in the same suit as he was yesterday or carrying an overnight suitcase. “Guess so.”

“Didn’t even check in with me before looking around.” The smile stays on Jinhyuk’s face, and he looks over Seungwoo’s shoulder. “Anything in the alley?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Didn’t get too far before you found me.” 

That seems to pass any suspicions, and Jinhyuk just shrugs his shoulders. “Well, the officers can handle that.” Jinhyuk clasps a hand over Seungwoo’s shoulder, pulling him towards the front of the alley. “We’ve got more important things to do.”

Seungwoo maneuvers his suitcase to the other side of his body, away from Jinhyuk. “What is it?”

“Young woman found dead in her apartment. Door locked from the inside.”

Seungwoo doesn’t have to think too hard about the cause of death. “They called homicide for a _suicide?”_

“Landlord was adamant about a through inspection.” Jinhyuk steers them both to the front of the apartment building. “That, and the area has been riddled with crime for months. Can’t be too certain about anything.” 

Seungwoo supposes that makes sense. Anything could have happened, and it is best to rule out foul play, especially in this apartment building. 

He lets Jinhyuk walk him to the main entrance and through the doors, into the apartment lobby. Much like Seungyoun’s apartment, the lobby is modest and in shambles. Wallpaper is peeling off from the wall, the ceiling has evidence of chronic leaks, and the windows are even barred. There is also a group of uniformed officers walking around, trying to keep some nosey tenants away from the stairs. 

It’s funny. For how many nights Seungwoo has been here, he’s never walked through the front door.

He drops his suitcase off to the side of the lobby, then follows Jinhyuk to a group of officers. Jinhyuk flashes his badge and the officers let him through the tape. “Fifth floor, room 510,” a burly officers says as they pass.

Seungwoo gives him a nod, then follows Jinhyuk up the stairs. His heart momentarily stops as they pass the third floor, but thankfully Jinhyuk keeps walking, not paying attention to what is happening on any other floor. It’s relieving, because Seungwoo thinks he can hear Seungyoun’s voice through the walls.

Once they make it to the fifth floor, they find the largest crowd, tip toeing around to look into an open apartment door. Jinhyuk sighs. “Move, please!” he shouts. A few tenants give him sour looks, but do move. Seungwoo keeps his head low in case any of them have seen him before. “What do we have?” Jinhyuk asks when he and Seungwoo make it to the door. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offers one to Seungwoo, but Seungwoo shakes his head. 

The pathologist steps forward, shaking his head. “It’s either the cleanest suicide I’ve ever seen, or she’s the unluckiest twenty-something year old.”

Seungwoo frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Cause of death looks like heart failure. She just dropped dead.” The pathologist shakes his head. 

“Poor broad,” Jinhyuk snorts, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Do we have a name for her?”

The pathologist turns and looks behind him, and Seungwoo follows his gaze into the apartment where a few officers are surrounding a table. The body is slumped in a chair, lying on the table. Her face is towards the door, and Seungwoo can fully see her lifeless eyes and pale body when an officer moves out of the way, still see she’s dressed exactly as she was last night.

“Hyejin,” Seungwoo whispers.

It’s Hyejin.

Jinhyuk drops his cigarette.

  
  


__________

**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **October 27  
** **2:42 PM**

This trip to The Red Room is silent. When Seungwoo opens the door to the club, there’s no music playing. Wooseok doesn’t sling an arm over Seungwoo’s shoulders, Jinhyuk isn’t there to crack a joke about the evening, nor is Sunho at the maitre d desk to greet them as they walk in. The club is uneasily quiet and still.

Seungwoo hates it.

“Let’s get this over with,” Wooseok mumbles. Seungwoo had taken a taxi back to the station and picked him up. It only made sense to go to the club - besides the apartment, the club was Hyejin’s home. Jinhyuk stayed back at the scene to overlook any evidence pickup. Seungwoo doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jinhyuk look so solom. 

The club floor is empty, except for a few of the usual waiters cleaning some tables and the band on stage. One of the waiters looks up at them, giving a cheerful wave. “A little early for you two, huh?” he asks with a bright smile.

Seungwoo tries not to wince. He doesn’t need to be reminded how often he comes here, especially in front of Wooseok, especially under this circumstance. “We need to speak to the owner.”

That makes the waiter frown. “Oh, uh…” He looks back to one of the other waiters, who just shrugs. “Yeah, I can get him.”

As the waiter walks away, Seungwoo nudges Wooseok. “Do you want to speak with him and I’ll start with the band?”

Wooseok nods, silent. 

It’s so much harder when it’s someone you know.

Or, _knew._

That thought doesn’t make him feel better. He shakes his head and peels off from Wooseok, body more than mind taking him backstage. Wooseok probably thinks he’ll head right to the girls’ dressing rooms. After all, Hyejin was closest to them. Instead, he turns left, heading down the darkest hallway until he reaches Seungyoun’s door. He gives two short knocks, waiting until he hears a low “Come in,” from the other side.

Seungwoo doesn’t say anything as he enters and softly closes the door behind him, nor does Seungyoun say anything. The latter is sitting at his makeup table, absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the wood. His expression is dark, and Seungwoo doesn’t need to tell him what happened - no doubt word travels fast in the apartment complex. 

So instead, he takes a seat on the couch, reaching a hand out to Seungyoun’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

Seungyoun gives a rough laugh. “She was a bitch, but she was a friend.” He shakes his head, then turns to Seungwoo. “Did you find anything?”

Seungwoo shakes his head back, but straightens up on the couch. “I need to ask you some questions regarding Hyejin,” he says. Professional. He takes out his notebook, and hopes that Seungyoun gets the idea - that right now, Seungwoo is an Inspector, not his lover. “Did you speak with Hyejin at all yesterday?” His voice is loud enough that anyone outside can probably hear him.

Seungyoun’s eyes shift to the door. “I did. Last night.”

Seungwoo nods, then writes it down in his notebook. “Can you tell me what you two spoke about?”

Seungwoo begins writing before Seungyoun speaks: “She was complaining about losing time for her set. She believed she was being unfairly punished by management.”

“Would management have any reason to punish her?”

“Yes.”

That makes Seungwoo pause. His pen stills against the paper, and he looks up at Seungyoun. The other man sighs. “It was an open secret that Hyejin dabbled in addictive substances.”

_What?_

_“Drugs?”_ Seungwoo whispers. 

Seungyoun lowers his voice. “If the rumors are true, yes.”

Seungwoo quickly writes that down in his notebook. Addictive substances are are becoming more common in Seoul. It was only a few years ago that opioid dens were popping up around the poorer parts of the city. “Do you know what kind of drugs she did? Or where she’d get them from?”

“No,” Seungyoun sighs. “The girls may. I wouldn’t be surprised if Hyejin wasn’t the only one at the club getting high.” After a pause, he snorts. “She was never the type to be careful...”

Never the type to be careful.

“So an overdose,” Seungwoo marvels. “She may have died of an overdose.” This could be an accident. A simple, stupid accident. If someone didn’t know what they were doing with any substance, too much could be deadly. And an overdose would explain the heart failure. 

But where did she get the drugs?

Seungwoo makes another note to ask what Jinhyuk found at the scene. He needs to know what kind of opioid Hyejin had. That should lead them to where she got the drugs. The last thing this city needs is an opioid crisis. 

“Hey.”

Seungwoo pauses mid stroke, looking up at Seungyoun.

“Can you…” Seungyoun bites his lip. “It’s Friday. We can’t close on our busiest night, even if everyone knows.” He looks almost shy. “Can you come tonight? If you can?” 

Seungwoo’s heart melts a bit. He has never seen Seungyoun like this - upset, hesitant, without a smile on his face. Seungwoo puts his pen down, reaching out to Seungyoun’s knee again. “Of course,” he says, giving Seungyoun a soft smile. 

Whatever Seungyoun needs, he’s more than willing to give.

__________

  
  


**Han Residence, Wonhyo Street Apartments, Wonhyo Neighborhood  
** **October 28  
** **1:40 AM**

Seungwoo has never been more relieved to be home. Today was one of the longest and most exhaustive of Seungwoo’s career, mentally and physically draining. Even after spending the evening with Seungyoun, Seungwoo cannot wait to sleep in his own bed. The promise of a good night’s sleep is what takes him up the elevator and down the hall to his door. Once he is inside and gently closing the front door, he finally takes his child and coat off, sighing at the relief he feels.

“Hello, Seungwoo.”

The living room light turns on and Seungwoo jumps, almost tripping over his shoes. He whips his head around, and prays that his face reads more surprise than fear. “E-eunji, what are you-”

His wife smiles at him, sad. “I wanted to wait up for you.” She gets up from the lounge chair, wrapping her robe closer around her body. “You’ve been working late,” she continues, walking over to Seungwoo. Once she’s in front of him, she brushes some of his hair off his forehead. “A lot.”

Seungwoo gulps. “Eunji-”

“Seungwoo.”

Her tone suddenly drops. The smile stays on her face, but her eyes turn dark. 

Seungwoo feels his heart stop.

After a few seconds, she says, “I love you. I always have.” The smile stays, but her eyes get sadder. “I’m happy. We’re not perfect. But I’m happy.” She reaches out and cups Seungwoo’s cheek. “All I want is for you to be happy too. If you’re not happy, then _tell_ me.” She drops her hand to his shoulder. “Don’t sneak around me.”

Seungwoo’s heart crashes against his chest, a tidal wave of horror and fear. “E-eunji, I-”

 _“Don’t,”_ she growls, an angry sound that Seungwoo has never heard from her. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”

“I’m not-” Seungwoo reaches out and braces a hand against the wall. _This can’t be happening._ “W-what are you saying?”

“I think you know what I’m saying.”

_Play dumb._

“I-I have no idea,” he replies. He tries to keep his voice as level as possible. The more desperate he sounds, the more guilty he looks. “Eunji, if I did something wrong-”

“Just _tell me_ there’s another woman, Seungwoo,” his wife growls again, the anger still in her voice. “You’re staying out late, sometimes not coming home at all. We haven’t had sex in weeks and you never want to and-” 

“I’m not seeing another woman, Eunji,” Seungwoo pleads, grabbing her hand. The room is getting blurry and his ears are ringing, but he keeps his facade strong and sure. _“Please,_ believe me.”

It’s the truth.

He’s not seeing another woman.

Eunji sighs, pulling away. “Seungwoo-”

Seungwoo tightens his grip before she can move. “There’s no other woman. It’s just work.” He’s babbling now, saying anything so Eunji believes him. “I-I know I haven’t been around and I’m sorry. I’m trying to solve these murders and it’s more difficult than Theft, and I’m sorry if you’ve felt abandoned. But there’s no woman.” He swallows. _“Please.”_

After a few seconds, Eunji’s eyes get softer. She knows Seungwoo can’t lie to her. He’s never been able to keep anything a secret, not even gifts for her birthday. Eunji can always see through Seungwoo’s lies, and she must be realizing that Seungwoo is telling the truth.

He’s not seeing another woman.

Still, there’s suspicion in her eyes. She tugs her hand out of Seungwoo’s grasp, mumbling, “I’m going to bed,” before turning around and heading to their bedroom. Seungwoo just stands frozen as he watches her slam the door shut. After a few seconds, his legs give out underneath him and he collapses against the wall. 

Eunji knows. Of course she does. He got too carried away. Of course she would notice Seungwoo coming home later and later, until he stopped coming home at all. Of course she would smell smoke from the club, maybe can even smell Seungyoun’s cologne. Eunji’s not oblivious, but Seungwoo hoped she’d be. He took her kindness and loyalty for granted, hoping she wouldn’t see through his lies.

And he shot himself in the foot.

The only thing that is saving him is that she doesn’t know everything. Eunji thinks Seungwoo is seeing someone, but cannot prove it. And if she digs further, she won’t find any evidence that Seungwoo is seeing another woman. The smoke could be from the office, or any of the people that Seungwoo sees on normal business. Seungwoo also has never shown much interest in women before Eunji - he never dated before Eunji, never had any female friends. And even if Eunji knew about the club, she could ask anyone and they would confirm that Seungwoo never spent much time with the female performers.

He’s not seeing another woman.

Seungwoo puts his forehead on his knees. He needs to be more careful. Maybe this week he’ll come right home after work, or leave early so he and Eunji can have a week of dinner together. 

The back of his mind says he needs to stop this - walk away from Seungyoun and pretend it never happened. He can leave the past month behind. No one will ever know.

But, no matter how much he likes to think he can, he could never walk away from Seungyoun.

So, he does the only thing he can think of.

He walks over to the couch and lies down. He’ll speak with Eunji in the morning. 

  
  


__________

  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **October 31  
** **7:03 PM**

“Hey, Seungwoo.”

Seungwoo looks over to where Wooseok is starting to stand up from his desk. “We’re going to the club tonight,” Wooseok continues, motioning over to where Jinhyuk and Sejin are. “They’re doing a memorial for Hyejin. You should come with us.”

A memorial for Hyejin. The _yes_ almost comes out, but gets stuck on Seungwoo’s lips. He swallows it down before saying, “I can’t. I promised my wife I’d meet her for dinner.”

It’s the truth that Seungwoo wish wasn’t. For the past three days, he has been walking on eggshells around Eunji. He has come home every night on time, heading back to his apartment right after his shift ends. Sejin asked him two nights ago to go with him to the club, but Seungwoo refused. He needed to regain Eunji’s trust, and the only way that would happen is to stay away from the club.

And Seungyoun.

Wooseok shrugs. “Not to pressure you, but I think we should at least pay our respects at the club if we can’t do it later.” He throws his coat over his shoulders. “Sejin went yesterday and said everyone was a mess.”

“Yeah,” Sejin says, turning around to look back at Seungwoo. “The girls could barely sing and the band was...sad.” He shakes his head. ”I’ve never seen them so down. Even _Seungyoun_ was depressed.”

Jinhyuk snorts. “Can’t believe the world lost a girl like Hyejin, but kept someone like Seungyoun...”

Seungwoo almost snaps his pencil in half.

The urge to punch Jinhyuk in the face is strong, but thankfully Sejin gets there first. He smacks Jinhyuk in the shoulder, scowling. “Don’t be an asshole _.”_

Jinhyuk’s saving grace is the somewhat guilty look at appears on his face, and a muffled, “Whatever...”

Wooseok just shakes his head, then turns to Seungwoo. “Well, guess see you tomorrow-”

 _“I’m going,”_ Seungwoo mumbles, already getting out of his chair. Seungyoun is grieving, and Seungwoo hasn’t been there to comfort him, not since the day of the murder, and he’s not about to sit around while the others go. He knows damn well that none of them will offer condolences or support to Seungyoun. 

Eunji will have to wait.

“Oh,” is all Wooseok says. He watches as Seungwoo puts on his coat and hat, shrugging his shoulders after a few seconds. “Okay.” He turns to Jinhyuk. “You’re driving.”

__________

  
  


**The Red Room, Hangangno Neighborhood  
** **October 31  
** **9:16 PM**

Seungyoun doesn’t ask for much tonight. Seungwoo was ready for whatever Seungyoun would want him to do, ready to give whatever Seungyoun needed. Tonight, though, all Seungyoun does is pull Seungwoo down to the dressing room couch and curls into Seungwoo’s lap.

Hyejin’s death is still taking a toll on all of the performers. Yongsun was on the verge of tears for her song. Wheein once again refused to perform after breaking down on stage a few days before, leaving Seungyoun to take over her time. He made it through, but lacked his usual energy. The sight of him forcing a smile made Seungwoo’s stomach churn. But Seungyoun finished the entire set, and Seungwoo couldn’t help but feel proud. The thought has him kissing the top of Seungyoun’s head. “You did well,” he mumbles into Seungyoun’s hair. 

Seungyoun just sighs back, not speaking. Instead, he buries himself into Seungwoo’s chest. Seungwoo doesn’t press any further. 

Instead, they sit in silence. Seungwoo spends the time humming some songs and brushing his fingers through Seungyoun’s hair. He knows it’s calming for Seungyoun, and he loves doing it. Maybe Seungyoun will fall asleep and get some rest. Judging by the circles under his eyes, he hasn’t been getting much sleep.

“I think I’m going to leave.”

Seungwoo stops humming. “The club?” he asks, frowning down at Seungyoun.

Seungyoun shakes his head and looks up at Seungwoo with a small smile. “Korea.” 

Seungwoo blinks. 

Seungyoun keeps the smile as he moves off of Seungwoo’s lap, looking a bit amused. “Some Americans that come to the club are leaving on a boat in a few weeks.” He sits straighter next to Seungwoo. “They’re going back to Los Angeles. And I want to go with them.”

Seungwoo can’t seem to process what he’s saying. “Y-you want to go to _Los Angeles?”_ he asks, making sure he actually heard that.

Seungyoun wants to go to America. Forever. 

He wants to leave Korea behind. Forever. 

He will leave Seungwoo. Forever. 

And all Seungwoo can come up with is: “O-oh…” 

Neither he nor Seungyoun speak. Seungyoun has an expectant look on his face, waiting for Seungwoo to say something, _anything,_ but Seungwoo can’t think past Seungyoun _leaving_. Seungyoun not being in Seoul, at the club, within Seungwoo’s reach. 

Seungyoun wants to leave and Seungwoo would never see him again. 

_“W-why?”_ he eventually chokes out, not even sure if his mind caught up to his mouth. “What’s w-wrong with Seoul?” 

Seungyoun shakes his head. “There’s...nothing _wrong_ with Seoul. It’s just…” He pauses, biting his lip, and it takes him a moment before he says, softly, “Has Wooseok ever told you about the two of us?”

Seungwoo shakes his head, not trusting his voice. 

Seungyoun hums. “About two years ago, when I first started working here. He got drunk. He came backstage and gave us drinks. I went to leave and he followed me to my dressing room and...” 

Seungyoun’s voice trails off and he gives Seungwoo a knowing look. Seungwoo didn’t need the hint to know what happened, but that just makes it _worse,_ and Seungwoo feels dizzy. Wooseok and Seungyoun together, Wooseok being with a _man_ , this not being the first time Seungyoun has been with a _cop._ There are so many things running through Seungwoo’s kind that the room suddenly feels _hot_.

There is one thought, though, above the others. “Did...did he…?” Seungwoo can’t even finish, because he doesn’t want to think about Wooseok forcing Seungyoun into anything. 

Thankfully, Seungyoun shakes his head. “It was consensual. We were both drunk. But not enough to _not_ know what we were doing. I even asked him if he was sure.” Seungyoun shrugs. “Next night I thought he’d try and kill me. Instead he gave me twenty thousand won to keep it a secret.” He looks to Seungwoo. “And that was the end of that.”

Seungwoo still can’t speak. 

“I’m not…I’m not saying this to out anyone. But that wasn’t the first time I’ve been paid for... _services.”_ He pauses again, this time longer, until he almost whispers, “And not the last.”

Seungwoo suddenly finds his voice. “B-but you never asked me,” he blurts out, and he regrets it as soon as it leaves his lips. Seungyoun doesn’t need the reminder that he’s never asked Seungwoo for money, or that he’s asked other men before they started their affair. 

Or after.

But Seungyoun smiles, the same smile he gives when they are lying in bed and wrapped around each other. “But I never asked you,” he repeats. He chuckles to himself. “You...you had me smitten from day one.” He leans in and brushes their noses together. “And _still_ do. But that’s why I want to leave.” Seungyoun’s face scrunches. ”I don’t want to live like a whore.” 

Seungwoo immediately protests by shaking his head, but Seungyoun shakes his back before Seungwoo can say anything. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done. I want to start over,” Seungyoun explains. “Go somewhere far away and build myself back up to the man I want to be. And…” He trails off again, biting his lip. “I guess I’m saying all of this because I want you to come with me. To Los Angeles.”

Seungwoo must have misheard that part.

“You could start over, too.” Seungyoun continues before Seungwoo can even think. “You could be a cop in Los Angeles, or a literature professor, or a writer, or _anything.”_ He’s all bright eyes and childlike hand motions. “I could…I could find a jazz lounge and still sing. Or get into law enforcement.” Seungyoun says that last part with a bit of a chuckle. “We could find a place and be new people where no one knows us and no one cares and…” He takes Seungwoo’s hands. “We could be _together.”_

Something snaps inside of him.

“Seungyoun-” Seungwoo chokes, pulling his hands away. The room is spinning again. “I...I-I _can’t._ I c-can’t just _leave,_ I have my family here, I have my life-”

“I know-“

“A-and my job, and t-this is the only place I’ve known and-“

“But you’re not happy,” Seungyoun says back. It’s not accusatory - it’s a statement. 

And it’s true. 

Seungwoo has his family, his job, his _wife._ He has a picture perfect life that any man would be jealous of.

But there’s only been one person that makes him feel alive, and he’s asking Seungwoo to run away with him. To Los Angeles. _Forever._

After some silence, Seungyoun asks, barely a whisper, “Does _she_ make you happy?” 

That stings. 

But Seungyoun has a point, one that makes everything so much harder and Seungwoo unable to lie. “I...care about her. I really do,” he confesses, shaking his head. He almost wishes he could hate Eunji, but he _can’t._ They grew up together and have been friends since they were children. Seungwoo always felt comfortable and safe around Eunji. “She’s a friend. One that I’ve known for years. A-and even if I’m not _in_ love with her…” He sighs. “I care about her.” 

But he’s never been _in love_ with her.

“Do _I_ make you happy?” Seungyoun asks, now moving back on the couch away from Seungwoo. His tone is still calm, but Seungwoo can see the pain in his eyes. 

It has Seungwoo’s chest tightening. _“Yes.”_ He reaches out and takes Seungyiun’s hand back in his. “Yes, more than anything. I’m happier than I’ve ever been because of _you._ I care about you.” He brings Seungyoun’s hands up to his mouth and gently kisses his knuckles. “So much.” 

Seungyoun frowns. “Like your wife?”

Seungwoo shakes his head. “She’s a friend. You’re…” 

What _is_ Seungyoun? 

They’re lovers; they run to each other for passionate sex and to get away from life outside Seungyoun’s bedroom. He should be nothing more than an outlet for Seungwoo’s physical desires. But Seungwoo also spends night listening to Seungyoun sing at the club because he loves watching him perform. He loves holding Seungyoun in his arms at night as they dance to Seungyoun’s records. He loves how Seungyoun’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, or how he holds Seungwoo when Seungwoo has had a rough day, or how his smile sends Seungwoo’s heart soaring. 

They never talked about what _they_ were, what exactly they were doing; but Seungwoo doesn’t have to think too hard about what he _wishes_ they could be. Maybe one day they can truly be together in ways that Seungwoo can only dream. 

But for now, he says, “A lot. You’re a lot to me.”

That makes Seungyoun’s eyes soften and a weak smile grow on his lips. “You’re a lot to me, too,” he whispers back. 

Seungwoo’s heart bursts, and he wonders if Seungyoun can see the adoration in his eyes. 

Seungyoun leans in and gives him a chaste kiss, leaving their lips brushing together once he’s done. “I’m asking a lot, I know. Leaving your whole life behind…” Seungyoun squeezes Seungwoo’s hands. “But we’ll never be free here. Not people like us.” 

People like them. People who can’t be free to love who they choose, who live in fake marriages because that is what society deems as more respectable than being truly happy. 

Would Los Angeles be any different? 

Seungyoun squeezes his hand again. “Think about it?” 

Seungwoo swallows. “I will.”


	5. Act V

**Act V**

**_The sweetest smiles hold the darkest secrets._ **

**Sara Shepard _, Flawless_**

  
  
  


**Yongsan Police Station  
** **November 3  
** **11:30 AM**

Seungwoo sighs, throwing his pencil down onto the desk. 

“You okay over there?” Wooseok asks, looking a bit amused. 

Seungwoo shakes his head, shuffling papers around. “If I look at one more data log, I’m quitting,” he mumbles. Paperwork has been piling up for everyone, but Seungwoo can’t seem to get ahead of any of it. 

Mostly because he’s been spending the past two days making a list of reasons why he shouldn’t run away to Los Angeles, and all the reasons why he should.

He slips his fifth version of the list under his pile, out of sight. “I’m heading to lunch,” he announces to Wooseok. He’s not even hungry, but he needs to clear his head. The thought of going to Los Angeles is slowly becoming a tempting offer and Seungwoo doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Is he relieved that the more he thinks about Los Angeles - the more he thinks about starting over with Seungyoun - the more excited he becomes? Or does he feel ashamed that he’s even considering? It’s all so confusing and he feels like absolute shit and he needs to walk away from his desk.

He gets three steps out of the room before a hand grabs him by the elbow. “No you’re not,” Jinhyuk mumbles, pulling Seungwoo away from the exit and towards the interrogation rooms.

Of course.

Seungwoo doesn’t ask anything, just lets Jinhyuk lead him into one of the rooms. He’s not surprised Jinhyuk needs to speak with him.

He _is_ surprised to see Yuvin there. 

“Got some updates for you both about Ahn Hyejin,” Yuvin explains, spreading out some files on the desk in the room. Once Jinhyuk and Seungwoo sit, Yuvin pushes one of the files over. “She died of a morphine overdose.”

Seungwoo frowns, grabbing the file. _“Morphine?”_ How the hell did Hyejin get her hands on _morphine?_ Morphine is difficult for hospitals and doctors to get - there’s no reason a club singer should have had morphine. If anything, Seungwoo was expecting opium commonly found among drug dens, smoked for a high instead of injected. Or, at the worst, heroin, a new drug coming from China.

But _morphine?_

“Is that what we found in the syringes at the scene?” Jinhyuk asks, looking over Seungwoo’s shoulder at the file.

Seungwoo frowns. “Syringes?” Jinhyuk never told him about syringes.

Then again, Seungwoo’s mind has been elsewhere this past week.

Yuvin motions for the file back. “Here’s the thing.” He flips to one of the pages and puts it on the desk. “Officers found a few other syringes in Hyejin’s dressing room. Those had…” He frowns, thoughtful. “Let’s just say a base amount of drugs in it, okay? Just enough to get high.” Seungwoo and Jinhyuk nod. “By the looks of it, this last time had almost three times the potency of the other syringes.” He points to a number on the page. “It would have killed anyone.”

“You can make morphine stronger without changing the dosage?” Jinhyuk asks.

Yuvin nods. “If you know your opioids, then yes.”

Jinhyuk looks over to Seungwoo. “Do you think she knew that?”

“You mean do I think she killed herself?” Seungwoo responds, shaking his head. He’s not sure what to think. Would Hyejin have killed herself? Seungwoo did not know her personally, but judging what Seungyoun said of her, she held herself in high regards. He would need to dive deeper into her acquaintances to see if she was suicidal.

“Well, she may have, right?” Jinhyuk leans back in his chair. “I don’t think someone would accidentally give themselves a deadly dose of drugs, especially if they’ve taken it before.” 

_Accidentally give themselves._

Seungwoo reaches for the page again. “Or someone killed her.” 

“Han...” Jinhyuk starts, but Seungwoo reaches for his notebook in his jacket pocket.

“I doubt Hyejin got the morphine herself,” Seungwoo argues, flipping through his notebook to get to Hyejin’s section. “Or had the knowledge to keep steady doses herself. Look-” He looks at Yuvin. “Are these numbers correct?”

“Are you _seriously_ asking me?” Yuvin asks back. Jinhyuk snickers.

Seungwoo sighs. “Sorry, but see-” He circles a few numbers on the page. “The syringes you found are all the same dosage. But only _this_ one was stronger.” 

Jinhyuk squints at the page. “So? Maybe she wanted a bigger high this time.”

Seungwoo hands the page to Yuvin. “I assume it’s difficult to keep the same dosage for morphine each time ” 

“You’d need to know how to measure morphine from its original container into a syringe and also keep the morphine the same potency each time,” he answers, looking a bit lost. 

“So, she may have asked for a bigger high, but someone had to make it.” Seungwoo looks to Jinhyuk. “Someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who _knew_ this was a lethal dose.”

Jinhyuk opens his mouth, then closes it. 

“I mean...it sounds reasonable,” Yuvin pipes in, shrugging his shoulders.

“But there’s no _proof,”_ Jinhyuk sighs, shaking his head. “This is all guessing.”

“Everything we do is guessing until we find evidence,” Seungwoo answers back, flipping through his notebook again. He knows this is all theory, but they have to start somewhere. And it does make sense - one lethal dose out of how many. If someone wanted Hyejin dead, it was the perfect opportunity; she craved the high and wouldn’t notice - _couldn’t_ notice - anything different about this one syringe. 

He starts jotting down everything he said. “Do we have anything else from that night?”

“Some neighbors think they heard Hyejin speaking with someone that night but-”

Seungwoo snaps his head towards Jinhyuk. “So someone was _there?”_

Jinhyuk sighs again, sinking lower into his chair. “But there was no sign of forced entry.” 

“So, it must have been someone she let in the apartment.” Seungwoo writes that down, too. “Maybe the person who gave her the drugs?”

“You’re something else, Han…” Jinhyuk mumbles, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his suit jacket. Seungwoo takes that as a sign Jinhyuk is done with his theories. 

There’s a knock at the door. “Seungwoo?” Chorong, the front desk secretary, peeps her head in and gives him a sheepish smile. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh-” He looks to Jinhyuk, who just shrugs as he fiddles with the cigarettes. Seungwoo closes his notebook. “We need to know who was with Hyejin last night,” he says to Jinhyuk, shutting the lid of his cigarette box before he can grab a stick. “See if anyone at the club knows who she’d invite over.”

Jinhyuk gives a muffled “Fuck you” as an answer. Yuvin laughs. 

“What do you need?” he asks, following Chorong out of the interrogation room. 

She leans against the wall, blocking his sight to the entrance. “I have two boys who are asking for you. They said they need to speak to someone about about Kang Minhee and Cha Junho.” 

Seungwoo almost drops his notebook. 

“They’re jumpy, just a heads up,” she continues, moving her body so Seungwoo can see them - two boys, still in their school uniforms, huddled together on one of the benches in front of the secretary’s desk. Seungwoo can see one of them - the taller of the two - bouncing his leg. His eyes are glued to the floor, but his leg never stops moving. The boy next to him looks calmer. 

Seungwoo gives Chorong a soft “Thank you,” before walking over to the bench. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire, but he swallows the anticipation. One wrong word and they’ll run off. So, he smiles, as polite as he can. “Hello.” He offers the boy on the right, _God_ does he look young, his hand. “I’m Inspector Han.” 

The boy takes it, hesitant. “Hyeongjun.”

Seungwoo nods and reaches out to the other boy, who still hasn’t lifted his eyes from the floor. Hyeongjun roughly nudges him and he straightens. “E-eunsang,” he squeaks. 

Seungwoo looks down at their uniforms. He recognizes the logo from a high school near his apartment, and only a short drive away from the station; no where near Minhee or Junho’s high school. 

_Interesting._

“You said you had some information about Kang Minhee and Cha Junho?”

Eunsang visibly gulps and looks at Hyeongjun. The other boy sneers, nudging Eunsang again in the ribs. “Your idea…” he grumbles. 

So Eunsang gulps again, then leans in to Seungwoo and whispers: “We...we know why they were killed.”

It’s hard to keep his face straight, even when Seungwoo feels his heart stop. 

Now _he_ is the one swallowing, keeping down a rush of emotions. He needs to keep calm. Make sure that he can trust them. For all he knows, they’re lying (though the fear in Eunsang’s eyes say otherwise). 

Seungwoo takes a breath, then motions for the boys to stand up. “Come with me.”

Eunsang and Hyeongjun obediantly get up from the bench, not saying another word. 

He escorts them through the station, back to the interrogation rooms. Jinhyuk and Yuvin are still chatting in the first room, so Seungwoo takes Eunsang and Hyeongjun into a second room down the hall. This room is more private, less likely to have people walking past. “Give me a second,” he tells them, then runs back to the front of the station, dodging any bodies who are walking through the hall.

“Wooseok!” he calls as soon as he gets a hand on the doorknob to the office.

His partner jumps, spilling some of the coffee in his hand. “What the…” He looks down at the mess on his desk, then up to Seungwoo. “Weren’t you getting lunch-”

“We have two kids who claim they know why Minhee and Junho were killed.”

Wooseok’s eyes widen and he almost spills his coffee again. _“Shit.”_ He trips over his feet to get to his desk, setting the mug down and grabbing at papers. “Shit, okay-” He fumbles for a few seconds before dropping everything in his hand. “You know what, fuck pencils, let’s go.”

If Seungwoo wasn’t on edge, palms sweaty and hands shaking, he’d laugh.

He guides Wooseok back to the interrogation room, thankfully finding Eunsand and Hyeongjun still there. “This is Inspector Kim,” he introduces. “We both were assigned the case.” 

Wooseok nods, sliding into the seat across from the boys. His face is serious - he means business. Seungwoo pulls out his notebook, setting it on the table and sitting next to Wooseok. “So, tell us what you know,” he encourages, pencil at the ready. 

Eunsang looks to Hyeongjun, who just stares at him back. Eunsang leans in and whispers something to Hyeongjun. Hyeongjun retaliates by pouting and shaking his head. 

Seungwoo’s not sure what they are squabbling about, and is about to interrupt when Hyeongjun sighs, _“Fine, fine…”_ The pout stays on his face, making him appear even younger then he probably is. “Minhee and Junho were selling drugs.” 

Seungwoo stops writing. _“Drugs?”_

Hyeongjun nods. “Yeah, at their school.” 

Seungwoo can feels Wooseok’s eyes on him. He looks over to his partner, who has the same dumbfounded expression on his face. “And you know this because…?” Wooseok asks.

Eunsang gulps. “S-so do we.” 

The air gets thick, neither side of the table moving, no one making a sound until Eunsang breaks, a sob escaping his lips. His shoulders shake and he leans against the table. _“I-I don’t wanna die next,”_ he cries. 

Seungwoo immediately pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it over to Eunsang. He’s still shaking, so Seungwoo reaches over the table and pats his shoulder. “No one’s going to die.” 

“Okay, okay-” Wooseok licks his lips. “So Minhee and Junho were selling drugs. Why were they _killed?”_

“They wanted to leave,” Hyeongjun answers. “At least, that’s what Minhee told me. He wanted to stop.”

“And you think they were killed because they wanted to stop?”

Hyeongjun nods. “Yeah. You know too much. You can’t just _stop.”_

Seungwoo gives Eunsang one more pat before he pulls back. “Let’s...take this one step at a time, okay?” He flips to an open page in his notebook and scribbles notes down. “Do you have any kind of proof? Anything that proves your claims true?”

At that, Hyeongjun shifts in his seat, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out something small and clear. 

A syringe. 

Wooseok looks down at the syringe, then slowly to Hyeongjun. “What is _that?”_

“The d-drugs,” Eunsang sniffs, wiping his nose against Seungwoo’s handkerchief. 

Seungwoo gently picks up the syringe, almost as if it would break once touched. It’s perfectly clear, no distinguishing markings or labels on it, but that makes it even more recognizable. He turns toWooseok, showing him. “We found a syringe like this in Minhee’s room.”

Wooseok takes it, looking it over. “Where do you get these?”

“From a supplier.” 

Wooseok looks at Hyeongjun. “And where does your _supplier_ get them?”

“We don’t know,” Hyeongjun answers, shaking his head. “We just pick them up and then sell our share.”

_Holy shit._

Seungwoo furiously writes this down, hands shaking. A drug ring. 

This is a drug ring.

“Where do you pick them up?” he asks, flipping to a new page in his notebook. 

Hyeongjun shrugs again. “Depends. We get them from restaurants, schools, laundromats...“

Seungwoo stops writing. “A dry cleaners, maybe?” 

Eunsang sniffs. “Yeah.” 

_Of course._

Seungwoo doesn’t have to say another word, because Wooseok is already guffawing, shaking his head in disbelief. _“Nam Dokyun...”_

“H-he’s not the supplier,” Eunsang quickly stutters. “He just held the stuff in his shop.”

He writes down Eunsang’s comment. “And the drugs were held in crates? Big, brown crates?”

Hyeongjun and Eunsang nod. 

_“Holy shit,”_ Wooseok breathes, running a hand through his hair. “The bastard lied to us.”

“Now we know what was in those crates.” Seungwoo makes a note to get a warrant for Dokyun. He can’t wait to bring Dokyun’s alcoholic ass back into the station. Once done, he looks up to the boys. “What were you selling?”

Eunsang looks over to Hyeongjun again, and Hyeongjun sighs, “Morphine.” His voice gets smaller, hesitant. “It was morphine.”

“We sold other things, too,” Eunsang jumps in. “B-but it’s usually morphine.”

Morphine. 

“You sold morphine,” Seungwoo repeats. His hand starts shaking. 

Well, that’s one mystery solved today.

Wooseok frowns at his tone. “What?” 

_“Hyejin.”_ Seungwoo answers, turning to her section in his notebook. “Did you ever sell to Ahn Hyejin?”

“What does she have to-”

He passes his notebook over to Wooseok. “She died from a _morphine_ overdose. Yuvin just gave us the report.” He looks to the boys. “A few days ago a young woman died in her apartment from a morphine overdose. In Ichon.” 

Eunsang gives a blank stare. “I don’t…” Hyeongjun has the same expression, and that tells Seungwoo that neither of them know Hyejin. But this must be where she got the morphine. Seungyoun mentioned she has a history of drug use. He writes that down as well, making a note to ask Seungyoun aboutany patrons that continuously visited Hyejin backstage. Another seller must have given the morphine to her.

Wooseok flips through the notebook, and Seungwoo can _see_ his mind trying to process all of this. “How did she-“ 

“There’s no logical way of her getting morphine unless someone sold it to her.”

 _“Jesus…”_ Wooseok sits back, running another hand through his hair. “How many of you sellers are there?”

Eunsang shakes his head. “No idea. We’re all around the city.”

“So it could have been anyone…” Wooseok replies. Seungwoo can hear the frustration in his voice. “So who have _you two_ sold to?”

“I mean…” Hyeongjun shakes his head. _“Everyone.”_

Wooseok snorts. “Be more specific.”

“It’s the truth,” Eunsang pleads. “We‘ve sold to businessmen, housewives, college students, high school teachers...”

_College students._

Seungwoo picks the syringe back up from the table. Clear glass. He grabs the notebook back from Wooseok, turning to his last entry he made while under the Theft divisions, so many weeks ago. When he gets to the page, he pauses.

_Could it really be connected?_

He looks to Hyeongjun. “What about a Kim Yohan?”

“Who’s _Kim Yohan?”_ Wooseok asks, sounding even more baffled. 

“My last case with Theft. A boy named Kim Yohan was jumped in an alley and beaten to death. I found clear glass by his body. Glass that looks like this.” Seungwoo points to the syringe, then looks to Hyeongjun. “Do you know him?”

Hyeongjun’s face immediately pales, so fast that Seungwoo thinks he’ll faint. For the first time, he looks _frightened._ “H-he’s my customer,” he stammers, rubbing his hands against his pants. “I used to sell to him.”

“He’s dead,” Seungwoo says. 

Hyeongjun swallows. “I know.” 

“Why was he killed?” 

Now the fear comes out in one, breathy sob that has Hyeongjun lurch forward in his seat. “I-it’s my fault! H-he short changed m-me and I didn’t have the money so I-I told my boss so I wouldn’t take the blame and...“ He hiccups. “They took care of it.”

He doesn’t explain any further, nor does he need to. Someone _took care_ of Yohan, all right. Someone made him a symbol - what happens when you don’t hold up your end of the bargain. That’s probably what happened to Minhee and Junho, too. They became a reminder to anyone involved in the ring - there’s no leaving once you’re in.

Wooseok leans forward. “Is your boss the supplier?”

“No.” Eunsang’s fingers are tapping against the table, nervous. “We have leaders, who have leaders, who report to someone…We never met the person in charge. We just get instructions on where to pick up our next supply.”

“Do you know how the supplier gets the morphine?” Wooseok presses. 

Hyeongjun looks down in his lap. “We just follow orders...”

Wooseok leans back again. “And you’re _sure_ that Minhee and Junho were killed because they wanted to leave this ring?”

Hyeongjun shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I...can’t say for sure, but…no one ever leaves.” He gulps. “That’s what they tell us.”

_Holy shit._

“Okay,” Wooseok says. “Okay.” He looks to Seungwoo, expecting some kind of response.

But Seungwoo has none.

It’s a drug ring.

A massive drug ring in Seoul. 

And Seungwoo doesn't know where to begin.

He looks to Wooseok, then the boys. All eyes are on him to make the next move, to do _something,_ but it’s so much to process. Here are two kids, saying that they are part of a drug ring around Seoul; that they’ve sold to people Seungwoo knows; that this ring connects more than Seungwoo thought.

All he can do is put his pencil down and take a deep breath. “We’re going to get some things together.” He stands up, with Wooseok following. “You two are going to stay here, understand?”

Hyeongjun frowns. “But-”

 _“No buts.”_ Seungwoo glares at the boys, serious. When both boys nod after a few seconds, he softens his expression. “I’ll have our secretary bring some water.” He pauses. “And snacks.” 

Both boys brighten up a bit at the mention of snacks. 

Seungwoo and Wooseok leave the room, heading to a secluded corner just down the hall, one where Seungwoo knows no one will find them. And once there, Wooseok freezes, eyes wide and mouth open. Seungwoo has never seen him this shocked. _“Holy shit.”_

“Okay.” Seungwoo gulps, bracing himself against the wall. “There’s a drug ring in Seoul.”

Wooseok slowly nods. “Who are selling morphine on the streets.”

“And murdering those who want out, or know too much.”

Wooseok shakes his head. _“Holy shit.”_

They stare at each other, standing in silence for what seems like an eternity, only moving when Seungwoo gulps and says, “We need to get a meeting together.”

Wooseok licks his lips. “I’ll get Dongwook.”

“I’ll get everyone else.”

  
  


__________

**Yongsan Police Station  
** **November 3  
** **1:02 PM**

Dongwook throws the file down. “Are you’re _sure_ they were telling the truth?” 

“Yes,” Seungwoo answers immediately. Without a doubt. Seungwoo could see it in their eyes - Eunsang and Hyeongjun were telling the truth, no matter how obscene. 

Dongwook’s turn to run a hand down his face. “So,” he starts, shaking his head in disbelief. “Where do we go from here?”

He looks around to everyone stuffed into the interrogation room, waiting to hear what they have to say. Sejin and Byungchan immediately look down at the floor, getting busy in their cigarettes. Wooseok looks to Seungwoo, anticipating, and Jinhyuk even nudges Seungwoo, asking, _“Well?”_

“I-I...don’t know,” Seungwoo admits. It’s not easy to confess, but it’s the truth. He’s still trying to wrap his head around all of this. He hasn’t even thought of what to do next. 

Jinhyuk sighs. _“Great.”_

“We can go back through unsolved cases from the past sixth months,” Wooseok tosses out. He moves around Jinhyuk to lean against the table, facing Dongwook. “See if any of them can connect to involvement in a drug ring.”

That’s a good start. Seungwoo takes out his notebook. “We can do that.” 

“What about the morphine?” Sejin asks. “Think we can find out where it came from?”

Wooseok turns to Byungchan. “Do we have any cases of morphine going missing from hospitals? Or entire shipments missing?”

“Or anything else from the army base?” Seungwoo offers. Odds are that if one shipment of morphine was stolen, there may be other shipments that have gone missing. 

Byungchan takes a long drag of his cigarette, then blows out smoke. “I’ll go check on that.” 

“We’ll check out local hospitals,” Jinhyuk says, pulling Sejin towards the door and making him fumble his cigarette almost out of his mouth. The latter pouts, but follows Jinhyuk out of the room. Byungchan follows, shaking his head at the other two.

Dongwook gives a fond roll of his eyes, then turns his attention back to Wooseok and Seungwoo. “And what do we do about our two witnesses?”

Seungwoo sighs. “They should go home.” Wooseok gives him an incredulous look and Seungwoo shakes his head. “We can’t keep them here.” 

“If Minhee and Junho were killed for wanting to get out of this ring, what do you think they'll do with two kids who squealed to the police?” Wooseok scoffs. 

It’s a good point, but Seungwoo continues to shake his head. “Keeping them here would make things more suspicious. They should leave before anyone realizes they’re gone.” 

“And just hope no one in this ring saw them leave a police station?” Wooseok looks to Seungwoo, eyes pleading. “They’re dead if we let them go.”

An even better point. It’s risky either way - either they keep Eunsang and Hyeongjun at the station and hope no one notices they are missing, or they let them go and hope no one finds out they came to the station. 

“But we also can’t keep them here without a cause,” Dongwook reminds them. “We’re a police station, not a foster care.”

“There has to be _something_ we can book them for.” Wooseok groans, running a hand through his hair. “Stealing?”

Dongwook sighs. “We’re not giving them fake criminal records.”

“They’re selling drugs, what’s stealing compared to that?”

“We can book them for truancy.”

Wooseok and Dongwook turn to Seungwoo. “We do what?” Wooseok blinks. 

“Right? It’s illegal to skip school for minors? Say we found them walking along the streets in their uniforms and brought them in for truancy.” Seungwoo motions to the door. “It keeps them here and safe.”

Dongwook frowns. “We can’t keep them here forever.” 

Seungwoo shakes his head. “We won’t. We’ll find this supplier.” 

It’s a bold claim, but Seungwoo is determined - if there was a case to solve, its this one. He’s going to find out who’s behind this ring. And Wooseok is right - Eunsang and Hyeongjun are safer here, especially if they have a reason that wouldn’t cause suspicion.

Dongwook still has the frown on his face, and Deungwoo worries he may be turned down. But then his expression softens. “Alright.” He pulls out a pen and writes something down in his notebook. “We keep them here under truancy.” 

Wooseok gives a sigh of relief. Seungwoo pats his back. 

Dongwook rips the paper out of the book and gives it to Wooseok. “And I want this quiet. I don’t want the press knowing about a drug ring. We stay one step ahead by pretending we know nothing, understand?” 

Seungwoo and Wooseok nod.

“Good.” Dongwook slams his notebook shut. “Now let’s catch these bastards.”

  
  


__________

**Yongsan Police Station  
** **November 3  
** **9:38 PM**

  
  


“I’m going to be late tonight,” Seungwoo admits, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he shuffled through the file in his hand. “And I might stay here. Would you be able to drop off some clothes?”

“Is everything alright?” Eunji asks, and Seungwoo can hear the concern in her voice. 

“I think we had a breaththrough on some unsolved cases.” It’s surreal to say out loud, that they may be onto something, that they are within reach of solving this. “This is a huge break for us.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. “Okay, I’ll take a taxi.” His wife doesn’t sound too thrilled, but she doesn’t sound suspicious. 

Not that Seungwoo has anything to hide today.

“Any preference on the suit?” Eunji asks.

“Anything clean.” 

Seungwoo can hear some shuffling in the background. “I’ll bring some food, too. You can’t live off of coffee.”

She knows him so well. “Thank you,” he replies, sincere. He will never deserve Eunji’s kindness. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

She says goodbye and Seungwoo hangs up the phone, almost dropping the pile of files in his arms. Now that Eunji knows he won’t be home, he can get back to looking through these cases. A few of them look promising. There may be some connection to this drug ring. 

As he heads back to the briefing room, he peeks into the interrogation room where Eunsang and Hyeongjun are huddled together. They were able to find some blankets and pillows to give them. Jinhyuk even had a comic book stuffed in his drawer that he let the boys borrow. They’ve eaten and look to be in better moods than when they walked in. A part of him still worries that there will be talk amongst the ring about two missing sellers, but Wooseok is right - there’s no safer place than here in the station. 

When he backs back to the briefing room, Wooseok immediately pulls him to Wooseok’s desk, sitting him down in a chair. “Just got the briefing from Byungchan.” He takes the files out of Seungwoo’s hands, tossing them into his desk and handing Seungwoo another. “You were right. Apparently, for the past five years, the army base was storing morphine for their soldiers.” He motions to the file. “They had someone do a count - besides the case we know of, there are several syringes unaccounted for, not including the shipment from a month ago.”

Seungwoo tears the file open, scanning all the words on the page. It’s mostly in English, but Seungwoo can make out the numbers angrily circled in red pen, or Byungchan’s notes that detail the confusion and shock that morphine was, in fact, missing. “How much did he say was stolen?”

“A dozen or so crates worth. A few syringes taken from each.” Wooseok flips a page and points to some messily drawn diagrams. “Each crate holds three hundred syringes pre-packed with morphine. They were meant to be used on the battlefield.”

A bitter laugh escapes from Seungwoo’s mouth, remembering the pain he went through during the war, how he saw friends and comrades scream out all while the Americans had crates full of morphine. “I never saw these.” 

“Americans most likely kept them for themselves,” Wooseok mumbles. 

It’s probably true, but Seungwoo can’t let himself dwell on the past. Instead, he turns his attention back to the file, looking to see if there is anything else that can help them. “Do they have an idea of how the morphine went missing?”

“Not from what Byungchan said. He said they couldn’t believe anything was stolen in the first place.”

Seungwoo puts the file down. “How does someone steal morphine from the Americans without them noticing?” 

“Someone would need to get into the base, get into wherever they were keeping the morphine, and then leaving the base.” Wooseok collapses into his desk chair. “And this person needs to know their way around.” 

It’s meant to be an offhand comment, but Wooseok may be onto something. “I don’t know of any Korean who would know their way around an army base,” Seungwoo replies, tapping his fingers against Wooseok’s desk. From what Seungwoo knows, only a few Koreans - mainly high ranking army officials - have ever been allowed inside the base. If they let Byungchan into the base, and that’s a _big_ if, no doubt he was escorted the entire way. They were only allowed around the perimeter when Nero was killed. They weren’t allowed inside.

_When Nero was killed._

Wooseok tilts his head. “So an American?”

Seungwoo takes out his notebook and gets to Nero’s case. 

Wooseok cranes his neck to see. He almost falls out of his chair when he realizes what Seungwoo is looking at. “You think _Nero_ was in on this, too?”

“An American, speaking with someone outside of the base when he shouldn’t have been, and purposely hiding behind crates so he won’t be seen.” Seungwoo looks up from the notebook. “If he was working from the inside, he could smuggle out morphine. He knows his way around the base and could be there unsupervised.”

Wooseok is nodding along, eyes growing wider at every passing word. “We never found out why Nero was killed.”

“It makes more sense if he’s connected to this ring.” Seungwoo takes one of Wooseok’s pencils and scribbles this down. “He was a loose end that needed to be silenced.”

“Why would he be killed, though? Wouldn’t the ring still need morphine?”

“We’ll need to find that out.” Seungwoo makes a note to go to the base and see if Nero had access to the morphine. If he did, that would support this theory. Maybe the night he was killed, he was giving the morphine to the supplier, or to a seller. He closes his notebooks. “Okay, any word from Sejin and Jinhyuk?”

Wooseok shakes his head. “Not yet. I think they’re going to all of the hospitals in the neighborhood, so we won’t see them for another hour or two.”

Seungwoo nods. That’s good. Any information at this point is welcome, even if the hospitals don’t have anything stolen. In fact, that may be better - than they can pinpoint exactly where all of the morphine has come from. 

“So, we have stolen morphine from the army base, it getting sent out to shops all around the city, and a bunch of kids picking it up and selling it,” Wooseok says with a sigh. 

Seungwoo nods again. “So where do we start?” he mumbles, mainly to himself.

“Eunsang and Hyeongjun?” Wooseok carefully suggests. “Maybe we can use them to get to the higher ups? See if we can stake out a meeting?” 

It’s an option. Seungwoo doesn’t like the idea of using Eunsang and Hyeongjun, but they’re the only connection the team has. “Maybe we can have one of us pose as a client.”

“If we do, make it Jinhyuk. He looks like an addict.”

That makes Seungwoo chuckle. 

But in all seriousness, there _has_ to be a better way. One that doesn’t involve Eunsang and Hyeongjun and putting them in more danger. They have to find a way to connect all of this. 

Seungwoo looks down at his notebook, then the stack of files Wooseok dropped earlier. 

He needs to view this differently. 

“C’mon,” Seungwoo says, getting up from the chair. 

“What-” Wooseok starts, darting out of his chair to follow Seungwoo out of the briefing room. 

Seungwoo leads them to their office, to the front where a map of Yongsan is racked against the wall.

Without a second thought, Seungwoo tears of down.

“Wa-wait-“ Wooseok stutters, but Seungwoo pays him no mind.

Instead, he takes the map and puts it on his desk. “Hold this,” he instructs. Wooseok huffs, but holds the corners as Seungwoo gets his notebook again. He puts that in one corner of the map, and starts at the beginning. 

“Yohan was killed here.” He traces his fingers down the streets of Bogwang before he finds the alley. He picks up a pencil and circles the location.

He then moves over. “Minhee and Junho went to school here.” He marks the high school with a triangle. “But washed up here.” Down the river near the Hangang Bridge. 

“Makes sense if they were tossed from the school.” Wooseok follows the river with his finger. “The current would have taken them out to sea.”

Seungwoo nods and draws a line from the two points. He then moves back to Itaewon. “Nam Dokyun’s dry cleaning shop is here.” 

“The army base,” Wooseok reminds him, pointing to where the perimeter would be. “Where Nero was killed.” He pauses. “And the crates were stolen off the truck.”

 _The truck._ Seungwoo almost forgot. “We’ll need to have Byungchan tell us what he knows about the truck.” He looks at the roads leading to the base. “I’d bet you anything it made a stop or drives along these points.”

“Hyejin.” Wooseok licks his lips. “Hyejin died in her apartment.”

Seungwoo nods. He doesn’t need the reminder where the apartment complex is. He immediately finds Ichon and circles the street. 

Wooseok reaches out to flip through Seungwoo’s notebook. “And Minpyo’s records.” He looks up. “The ones found at his home? We never did find out how Dokyun could deposit all that money.” 

“Unless he was being paid to store drugs in his shop,” Seungwoo answers. He looks at the address in the notebook. “The bank is here.” A circle. 

He pauses for a moment. Dokyun wasn’t the only person of interest connected to the bank. “And Son Minpyo was killed here.” He points to a few streets over, where the market is. “I bet you _anything_ he was also a loose end that needed to be silenced.” There was no other reason for his death. If Dokyun deposit secret funds related to the ring with Minpyo, there's no doubt that Minpyo knew what was going on. How else could Dokyun deposit hundreds of thousands of won without question? He had to be part of this.

But what now?

“What are we _missing?”_ Wooseok groans, slamming a fist down on the desk. He looks around the map. “There’s got to be something that connects all of this…”

There has to be. Seungwoo even puts a triangle around the station. None of the crimes, at least none of his, have been around the station. The ring must be smart to keep everything away from the police. But what else is there? 

Seungwoo looks back to his notebook. They will have to go back through other Inspector’s work to see if they have unsolved cases that could connect to the ring. Otherwise, every case they worked on is accounted for, from the first syringe they found in Minhee’s room, to Hyejin’s death in her apartment, the glass found at Yohan’s crime scene, to-

One piece of evidence Seungwoo never figured out. 

He turns back to Yohan’s case. 

The box of matches. He never found a reason for the box of matches. 

In fact, now that he looks at the map, from Minhee and Junho to Dokyun, from Minpyo to the army base, they all surround one, central location. 

Seungwoo reaches out with a shaking hand and circles the spot. 

Wooseok frowns. “The Red Room?”

Seungwoo nods, slowly. “I found a box of matches from the club by Yohan. He’s too young to get in, but the men who killed him may not have been.” He swallows. “A-and Minpyo’s bank. Employees from the club bank there, so he must know people. And Jinhyuk found syringes in Hyejin’s dressing room.” 

“So we know she was doing drugs there…” Wooseok mumbles. He taps his fingers against the desk, before sighing. “Honestly, it’s a stretch. Everyone in the goddamn neighborhood goes to the club.”

“But there may be a connection,” Seungwoo argues back. “If everyone in the goddamn neighborhood went, then what if our supplier did, too?”

Wooseok pauses. After a few seconds, he shrugs, and Seungwoo has made his point.

“And maybe our persons of interest went, too,” he continues, reaching for his notebook again. “Minpyo, Dokyun, Nero? Maybe they went. Maybe the club really does connect everything.” 

“So they all had raging hard-ons and went to a jazz club.” Wooseok shakes his head. “Half the _police_ unit goes to The Red Room _._ So just because a few guys went, suddenly they’re connected?” 

It’s a fair point, but Seungwoo has this gut feeling, this unsettling knot in his stomach that The Red Room is the center of this. Even looking at the goddamn map shows that. “Maybe they all went to meet the supplier. Maybe they went to meet each other, I don’t _know-“_

“Or maybe they went to get _massages_ backstage.” Wooseok shakes his head again, and Seungwoo gets the inference from his tone. “We can’t make assumptions until we know they went.”

“So, let's go!” Seungwoo growls. They shouldn’t be arguing - they should be out looking for this ring. “Let’s ask if they’ve been to the club and-“

Massages. 

What if they went to get _massages._

It’s funny, how it all suddenly clicks, just from that one visual. 

There is something that could connect the crime scenes. 

_Someone._

Someone who could speak to Nero in English. Someone who banks at Minpyo’s branch. Someone who would need to drop expensive clothes at a dry cleaners. Someone Hyejin knows, who had spoken to her the night she died.

_It can't be._

Seungwoo thinks his heart stops.

Without another word, Seungwoo walks over to his desk and grabs his coat.

“W-Wha-“ Wooseok stutters, watching Seungwoo knock a cup of pencils off his desk as he wrestles with his coat. “Where the hell are you going?”

Seungwoo’s ears are ringing, drowning his thoughts and he’s not even sure if he’s hearing Wooseok speak or if this all in his head and why can’t he get his _fucking_ jacket on. “I-I need to go.” 

“Go _where?”_

He snaps his head back to Wooseok. “Go to The Red Room and see if Roger Nero went to the club before he died.” He finally gets an arm through his jacket and works on the other. _“Frequently_ went. And if he asked to see anyone backstage.”

“O-okay but-” 

“A-and I need to know what time the person in Hyejin’s apartment was over.”

Wooseok rounds the desks, pulling Seungwoo by the arm and turning Seungwoo to face him. “Where the _fuck_ are you going?” His tone is frustrated and confused, and Seungwoo understands, but he needs to _go._

He tugs his arm out of Wooseok’s grasp and runs out the door. “The corner store!” he calls back. 

“What corner... _Seungwoo!”_

  
  


__________

**_The Red Room  
_ ** **November 5  
** **5:09 PM**

“Hey, you!” Seungyoun greets, smiling, as always. He takes Seungwoo’s hand and pulls him into his dressing room. “Where have you been?” He doesn’t let Seungwoo answer before he drapes himself around Seungwoo’s shoulders and steals a quick peck. 

“Busy,” Seungwoo whispers back. 

Another kiss. “No kidding. I haven’t seen you in _days,”_ Seungyoun laments. His kisses move from Seungwoo’s mouth across his cheek, then down his neck, right to his favorite spot. “I missed you.”

Seungwoo’s lips are sewn together.

After a few seconds, Seungyoun pulls away. “So, have you thought about Los Angeles?” he asks, in his usual, bright tone. He turns to face his mirror, plopping himself down at his makeup chair. “I don’t mean to pressure you, but the boat leaves in a week.” He picks up one of his makeup brushes. “And I need to see if I can get us tickets...on board...”

His voice trails off when Seungwoo’s gun presses against his head.

This is the end.

Seungyoun’s eyes dart up to meet Seungwoo’s, and Seungwoo can see every emotion flash across his face - the confusion, the understanding, the _fear,_ and he tries to move away from the gun, but Seungwoo just presses it harder against his skull, making Seungyoun lean into the makeup table. “Seungwoo-”

 _“Shut up,”_ Seungwoo growls through gritted teeth.

He feels the first piece of his heart chips away.

He swallows it down. “I-it’s you.”

Seungyoun tries moving again. “Seungwoo, you’re scaring me-”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Seungwoo says again, louder. His thumb twitches over the back spring of the gun. “The morphine supplier.”

Seungyoun’s brows furrow. “What are you-”

“You were there the day Kim Yohan was killed.” Seungwoo swallows, trying to keep his hand steady. “The corner store owner recognized your picture. You were there seconds before he was beaten in the alley.”

“Seungwoo, I-”

“Some teachers remember seeing you talk to Kang Minhee and Cha Junho at their school days before they were thrown into the river. Said you must have been a tutor.” Seungyoun opens his mouth, but Seungwoo speaks before he can: “Roger Nero was one of the soldiers who came here. One of the men who asked to see you backstage.”

Another piece of his heart chips.

“And at the park where Son Minpyo was killed. You knew he was killed on the green without even seeing it.” 

A crack down the center.

“Nam Dohyon knows you from the dry cleaners. And so does the pawn shop where you sold Hangyul’s necklace using Dohyon’s name.”

His voice begins to waver, all of his emotions bubbling up from his heart, but he can’t bother to control the way his throat dries or his eyes water. 

“A-and Hyejin knew the person she spoke to the night she was killed-” 

“Seungwoo,” whispers Seungyoun, his voice the smallest Seungwoo has ever heard, all his confidence and light gone. “What are you saying?”

“I-it’s you. The p-person we’ve been chasing.” Seungwoo swallows again, and it feels like knives against his throat. “The s-supplier for this drug ring.”

A half shatters; a billion shards explode in his chest and cut his lungs, and he can’t seem to breathe. 

“You _k-killed_ those people.”

Neither move.

It’s completely silent. Seungwoo can hear the staff in the halls, laughing as he prepare for tonight’s show. He can hear the band practice all the way from the front of the club. He can even hear Seungyoun swallow as he slowly turns in his chair, shifting his body so he can face Seungwoo. The gun now rests in the middle of his forehead, and he looks up at Seungwoo with his bright eyes, his pretty mouth, and - 

“I didn’t kill anyone, Seungwoo.”

 _“No!”_ Seungwoo yells, dropping his gun and pulling back from Seungyoun. “No, no, no, _fuck.”_ He turns away and kicks a small table and it topples over, shattering a lamp. “Was this all a fucking game to you? _Us?_ ” He whips back around. Tears are falling now, wet and hot down Seungwoo’s face. “Did you just keep me around so I wouldn’t suspect you? O-or so you could follow what I was doing?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Was Los Angeles just a way to get out of Seoul before anyone could find you?”

Seungyoun gets up out of the chair. “I didn’t-”

 _“No!”_ Seungwoo points the gun again to Seungyoun. “Not another step.” 

Seungyoun does stop, but doesn’t sit back down. He stands casual, like he does when he waits for Seungwoo to walk into his arms. That makes the tears fall harder. “You l-lied to me,” Seungwoo croaks. 

Seungyoun softly shakes his head. “I never lied to you.”

“You’re a murderer.”

Seungyoun shakes his head again, this time with his sad, pretty smile. “I didn’t kill anyone, Seungwoo.”

“No.” Seungwoo swallows, quickly looking over to the clock on the wall, right behind Seungyoun’s head. “You have people to do that for you, right?”

Seungyoun doesn’t answer right away. The smile stays on his lips, though, even with a pistol pointed at his face. “What do you want me to say?” he eventually asks. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Seungwoo pleads. He holds the gun tighter. “Tell me I’m wrong and that you have nothing to do with this. A-and you weren’t just fucking with me because I was an Inspector and you got off of playing with my feelings.” His voice cracks over last few words, and the next are even harder to speak: “Tell me we were real.”

Seungyoun takes a step forward, careful. “I’ve _always_ cared about you, Seungwoo.”

The other half of his heart fractures.

 _“Fuck, Seungyoun,”_ Seungwoo cries. He feels like an idiot. How could he not see it? Was he too blinded by lust and the thought of finding someone like him, the thought that someone like Seungyoun could care for him back? Too blinded to realize that Seungyoun was prying into his work? Or just happened to be at the crime scenes by coincidence? 

Another step forward, and Seungyoun tries to reach out to him. “I _never_ lied to you. Not about anything.”

Seungwoo pulls away. “You’re a _criminal,_ Seungyoun! You’re the reason people are dead!” The gun is still hot and heavy in his hand. “The reason morphine is spreading around the city!” 

He waits for Seungyoun to deny it, _begging_ him to with his eyes. But all Seungyoun does his step forward again, looking as calm as before, not afraid at the cocked gun. “Are you going to shoot me?” Another step. “It’s okay if you do.” One more, and the gun is back against Seungyoun’s head, and the smile is still on his face. “I told you - I’m doing living like this.” 

_“Shut up!”_ Seungwoo shouts, not caring if he’s heard from the halls. Let everyone hear - let them hear how his heart is being ripped from his chest. It _hurts,_ worse than any wound Seungwoo has felt before, and the tears fall easier than they ever have. “I t-trusted you…” 

“I know,” Seungyoun says.

A sob bursts through his throat. “I-I think-k I loved you…”

“I know,” Seungyoun says again, even softer. He reaches up and takes Seungwoo’s hand, the one holding the gun, and brings it down. Seungwoo lets him, not putting up a fight. He lets his arm fall back to his side, lets Seungyoun close the gap between them and press their foreheads together. “I really wanted to be happy together.” 

For the last time, Seungwoo lets Seungyoun pull him into a kiss.

The last of his heart turns to dust.

Seungyoun wistfully sighs, then pulls back, letting go of Seungwoo’s hand. “Would you like my confession?”

Seungwoo looks up at the clock. “No.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand. They are out of time. “We’ll get that at the station.”

Seungyoun looks confused by that, but Seungwoo doesn’t explain any more. He just turns to open the dressing room door and waves a hand through the threshold. 

Immediately, officers are swarming into the room, guns drawn and screaming for Seungyoun to freeze. Two grab him by the shoulders and push him against a wall, grabbing his hands and pinning them against his body. Seungwoo can’t watch, and moves out of their way to sit on the couch. His gun slips from his hand, clattering onto the floor. He makes no attempt to get it. All he does is put his head in his hands, trying to keep the tears from falling harder. He feels numb, and can barely feel a sturdy hand against his shoulder. 

Wooseok gives his shoulder a supportive squeeze before saying: “Cho Seungyoun: you’re under arrest for agrivated assault, the murder of Ahn Hyejin and Robert Nero, and conspiracy.”

It is done.

  
  


__________

**Yongsan Police Station  
** **November 5  
** **8:50 PM**

“Does it ever amaze you how fast word travels?” Sejin asks. He has been leaning against the briefing room window for fifteen minutes, watching as reporter after reporter swarms around the station door, cameras out and demanding comments from anyone who walks by. 

Jinhyuk snorts from his desk. “We made a scene at one of the more popular clubs in Seoul, of course word got out.”

It’s true. The team had just stepped out of the club’s main doors, and already a crowd began to form. Most were pedestrians, wondering what was happening that involved four police cars, a dozen or so officers, and the entire club to be shut down. On the way out, Seungwoo did notice a camera. It wasn’t too long after they returned that the first reporters showed up on their steps.

Just then, the door opens and Dongwook walks in. 

The room falls silent.

Dongwook sighs, stretching his neck. He looks exhausted. But then again, they all are. The past two days have been a revolving door of witnesses, running around to past crime scenes, and one expedited trip to the courthouse for an emergency arrest warrant. With a yawn, Dongwook looks to Seungwoo. “We’re almost ready.” 

It’s time.

Seungwoo gets up from his chair, walking across the room with all eyes on him. Dongwook pats his back as he walks past. “You did good,” he says softly, giving Seungwoo another supportive pat.

He caught the bad guy.

But at what cost?

They head to the interrogation rooms. Wooseok is already there, taking a smoke on a bench. Dongwook motions to the seat next to him. “Give us a few more minutes with the fingerprints.”

Both Wooseok and Seungwoo nod. Dongwook nods back, then enters the room. As soon as the door is closed, Wooseok turns to Seungwoo. “You don’t have to do this,” he mumbles in a hushed tone. 

Seungwoo shakes his head. “I do.” It’s his case to close. _His_ last case from Theft, _his_ first case with Homicide, _his_ lover-

He chokes. 

This is all connected to _him._

This must be his case to close. 

Wooseok doesn’t seem happy with his answer. He blows out some smoke, then moves himself closer to Seungwoo. Their legs are touching. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asks. “Given your…” He looks to the side, pausing for a few seconds. When there’s nothing but silence, he leans in close and says: “Relationship?”

Oh.

So Wooseok knows about them. 

He swallows, not able to look at Wooseok. “How much did you hear?”

Wooseok takes a drag of his cigarette. “All of it.”

Oh.

Seungwoo can’t even bring himself to feel surprised. He wasn’t exactly quiet in Seungyoun’s dressing room, and with Wooseok perched only a few feet away, waiting for Seungwoo’s signal, he would have been within earshot.

Seungwoo can’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. “I was an idiot.”

“You were.” Wooseok blows out the smoke again. “You could have put the entire department in jeopardy if any information leaked.”

Admittedly, Seungwoo didn’t consider that. Of course, he also didn’t consider Seungyoun to be the ringleader of a drug ring. He’s lucky that, as far as he can remember, he never spoke to Seungyoun about work. That was an unspoken rule between the two of them. No work talk. Their time together was just for them, and them alone.

Seungwoo nudges Wooseok’s leg. “Are you gonna tell Dongwook?”

“As long as you didn’t talk to Seungyoun about major case details, we should be fine.”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Not about that.” He turns to Wooseok. “About _me.”_

Wooseok looks back at him. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Seungwoo blinks. That’s...unexpected. Wooseok has enough against him to report him to Dongwook. Adultery, homosexuality...either would be enough for Seungwooo to lose his job. Lose is reputation as an officer. Lose his wife - she’s have every right to divorce him. Hell, he may even go to prison. But Wooseok just smokes his cigarette without a care in the world, not bothered in the slightest. 

_“Thank you,”_ Seungwoo whispers to him.

“You’re not the only one whose done stupid things,” Wooseok replies. 

Right. 

Wooseok _did_ spend one night with Seungyoun, too. 

Whether or not he’s like Seungwoo - attracted to men - Seungwoo doesn’t know. But that doesn’t matter; it’s a secret they both share. 

“Seungwoo.”

Wooseok and Seungwoo look up. Dongwook closes the interrogation room behind him, and motions for Seungwoo. “We’re ready.”

Seungwoo nods, standing up. Wooseok stands too, and gives him a pat on the back. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Seungwoo hopes he won’t need saving.

But as soon as he steps into the interrogation room, as soon as he closes the door behind him, as soon as he turns and sees Seungyoun handcuffed to the table, smile still as bright as ever, Seungwoo doesn’t think he can do this.

“Hello, Inspector,” Seungyoun purrs, like he always does when the two are alone.

Seungwoo wants to run. 

He walks over and sits himself down in the chair opposite the criminal. “Hello, Seungyoun,” he answers, as calm as he can muster. He pulls out his notebook and a pencil. 

Seungyoun tilts his head. “Would you like my confession now?”

Seungwoo gulps. “Yes, please.” 

The smile stays on Seungyoun’s face as he settles himself in his chair. “Two years ago I first met Robert Nero,” he starts. “He enjoyed my set. And wanted to meet me backstage for a private show.”

Seungwoo swallows down the stabbing pain of resentment, picking up the pencil and writing. 

“One night, he showed me a syringe of morphine. Said he needed it to make the pain go away.” Seungyoun shrugs. “So I asked if I could get some.” 

Seungwoo looks up from his notebook. “And he took it from the base?”

“Yes.” Seungyoun shrugs again. "I tried it the first time he brought me some. It was a good high." He gives a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "He was right, it made the pain go away..." He looks back up to Seungwoo. "But that was the only time. Didn't like feeling out of control of my body, y'know?" He pauses, then scrunches his nose. "Also made me forget how to play the piano for a solid twenty four hours."

His face looks truthful, nothing about his actions look deceiving. Seungwoo continues writing. “So, why did Nero smuggle the drugs out to you if you didn't use them?”

“Word got out that I had connections to morphine. People were willing to pay a premium for pain to go away. So we started our own business.” Seungyoun shifts in his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “He would get the morphine out, and I would sell it away. ” 

Seungwoo pauses again. "So, all of this just for the money?" 

Seungyoun hums, thoughtful. "I think of it more as...doing it to help others forget their pain. I know what pain can do to a person, how it can ruin them..." Another shrug. "The money was just a bonus. More then I'd ever make in my lifetime as a club singer." He smiles. "It was nice having to stop whoring myself out to customers." 

He is still telling the truth, and that makes Seungwoo _furious -_ whether at Seungyoun for selling drugs or at the thought of selling himself to survive, he doesn't know. Nor, does he stay on that thought. “And why did you kill Nero?”

Seungyoun shakes his head again. “I didn’t kill him.” Seungwoo scoffs, but Seungyoun shakes his head again. “One of my associate’s killed him.”

“Under _your_ orders?” 

“Yes,” Seungyoun admits with a heavy sigh. “Nero began selling on the side. Thought he could sneak around our deal.”

Seungwoo can’t help but scoff again. “And what about your hired sellers?”

“It got too big to do myself. So I hired others. Mainly so very few would know who I was.”

Seungwoo stops mid sentence, looking back up at Seungyoun. “And you’ll share their names with us?”

Seungyoun smiles. “If you’re good.”

Seungwoo’s heart stops, and guilt overwhelms him. He’s weak. Seungyoun, even after everything, still has power over him. 

But he can’t let Seungyoun know that. 

Even if he already does.

He throws his pencil down on the table, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “Kang Minhee and Cha Junho,” he says.

Seungyoun perks up. “Good kids. A little too curious for their own good.” He shrugs. “Got caught snooping in places they shouldn’t. So they needed to go.”

“Kim Yohan?”

“Also a good kid. Just got too addicted too fast and couldn’t keep up with the money.”

“Nam Dokyon.”

Now Seungyoun sighs, exasperated. “One of the shop owners where we stored our hauls.” He shakes his head. “He was beginning to be trouble for us.” He snickers, then brings a hand up to his mouth like he’s holding a cup. “Too reliant on the drink.” 

The chains clank as he moves, and Seungwoo’s heart gives another tug. “Son Minpyo.”

“Our accountant. He began taking a little extra off the top of our sales.” Seungyoun pauses, thoughtful. “How’s his son? Dongpyo?”

For a second, Seungwoo is surprised Seungyoun knows Dongpyo. But then, this is Seungyoun. He probably knows everything about each of his associate’s families, whether out of personal interest or to use for his own gain. “Saw him yesterday.” When he and Wooseok went to Minpyo’s apartment and both Dongpyo and his mother recognized’s Seungyoun’s picture. _A colleague of Minpyo’s,_ his wife told them. “He’s applying to college.”

Seungyoun smiles. “Good. He was always smart.”

Seungwoo doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry at how genuine Seungyoun sounds. “Ahn Hyejin.”

“She was one of our best customers, but the need for the high began to overtook her.” He sighs again, but this time, it’s filled with gloom. “She threatened to tell my secret unless I could get her more morphine.”

“A bigger high?”

“Yes.”

“And did she know her last dose would kill her?”

Seungyoun shakes his head, deflating a bit. “No.” 

Well, that answers that. So his theory was right. Seungwoo leans forward in the seat again, turning to Hyejin’s case. “We have witness testimony that someone was in her apartment the night she was killed.” He looks at Seungyoun. “Was that you?”

“Yes. I was surprised anyone heard me. I’m usually quiet at night.” He goes quiet for a moment. Then, the smile drops a bit from his face, and an almost sheepish look appears. “Sleeping pills do wonders to help men sleep.”

It takes Seungwoo a few seconds to understand. Sleeping pills. No wonder he felt especially groggy that night. Seungyoun gave him _sleeping pills._ Seungyoun gave him sleeping pills so he knew Seungwoo couldn’t wake up in the middle of the night. Suddenly, Seungwoo wonders if the morphine is what Seungyoun and Hyejin were talking about when he arrived. Was Hyejin asking Seungyoun for a higher dose then? And he delivered it later that night? 

Was Seungwoo steps away from a drug deal, and he had no idea?

“Inspector?” 

Seungwoo looks back at Seungyoun, who is tilting his head again. “Is there anything else you need?”

He clears his throat. “The names of the sellers. And anyone else who’s connected to you.”

Seungyoun hums for a few seconds, then shakes his head. “Sorry. I don’t think I can do that.”

Seungwoo blinks. “Why not?”

“I may be in charge, but I don’t squeal on my employees.” He smiles again. “Don’t worry. If I’m gone, the pool will dry up within a matter of days.”

“That’s not-”

Before Seungwoo can continue, the door opens again. Dongwook walks inside, followed by two officers. “We’re done here,” Dongwook says. He moves to stand behind Seungwoo while the two officers unlock Seungyoun from the desk. New handcuffs are put on him, and he’s lead out of the room. He’ll be taken back to the cells in the back of the station. 

Seungwoo turns to Dongwook. “Sir, I wasn’t finished.”

“He admitted to all of the cases you had. Plus the morphine ring.” Dongwook moves around the table and sit where Seungyoun just was. “That’s enough to charge him. We’ll ask more questions after we finished sorting the other cases.” He pauses. “That, and I don’t think we’ll be getting any information about people in his ring.”

He’s probably right about that. Seungyoun may be a criminal, but his loyalty is unwavering. It’s also true that he and Wooseok have stacks of cases to go through still, ones that may be a result of the ring. They will need to go through them all so they can officially charge Seungyoun with as many crimes as they can prove. And once they do that, they will go to court. Provide witness testimonies. Share their findings. And then, all of this will be done. 

But Seungwoo can’t think that far, not when Seungyoun is still on his mind. “What’s going to happen to him?” he asks. 

“We’ll get a judge and set a court date. With his confession, he’ll be sentenced in a matter of hours. And then prison.” Dongwook sighs. “Or worse.”

Seungwoo’s heart stops. “You think they’ll…?”

“Depends on the judge.” Dongwook shrugs. “He admitted to orchestrating the killing of four people. And that’s just the cases we know about.” Dongwook taps his fingers against the table. “If we look back and connected more murders to him or the ring…” He sighs again. “He already has several murders under his belt.”

Of course. It only makes sense for Seungyoun to be sentenced to death. He murdered four people. Maybe more, if you count anyone over the past year or so that has died in a morphine related overdose. Add theft and distribution of drugs, and Seungyoun is one of the most dangerous criminals Yongsan has seen in years. Of course he has the possibility of being sentenced to capital punishment. 

“Hey,” Dongwook says. He reaches out and grabs Seungwoo’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. Our job is to protect the innocent from criminals.” Another squeeze. “And sometimes that means holding the criminals up to their crimes.”

Seungwoo doesn’t respond.

Thankfully, Dongwook doesn’t press it further. He gets up from his chair and heads out of the room, telling Seungwoo to “Go home to your wife,” before he leaves. 

Once the door closes, Seungwoo leans on the table, puts his head in his hands, and screams. 

  
  


__________

**Yongsan Branch Courthouse  
** **December 1  
** **4:50 PM**

Dongwook was right.

The trial only takes four hours. 

The jury takes ten minutes.

Wooseok and Seungwoo give their findings to the jury. All of the cases they found in connection to Seungyoun. Eunsang and Hyeongjun are put on the stand as witnesses, testifying how the ring works and the dangers of trying to leave. Nam Dohyon and Son Dongpyo even speak about their fathers, and how the ring tore their lives apart.

And through the whole trial, Seungyoun is silent. He gives no rebuttals, calls no witnesses. He sits calm in his seat, never once flinching at any accusations towards him.

He has accepted his fate.

And when the jury returns, they deliver his sentence:

Death by hanging.

The Judge accepts and his gavel comes crashing down on Seungwoo’s heart.  
  


__________

  
  


**Han Residence, Wonhyo Street Apartments, Wonhyo Neighborhood  
** **December 1  
** **7:02 PM**

There is a soft knock on the door. Seungwoo doesn’t bother turning around, choosing to continue to sit on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. 

“Hey,” Eunji calls softly. Seungwoo can hear her walk across the room, eventually sitting down next to him. She brushes some of Seungwoo’s hair off his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Numb,” Seungwoo honestly answers. He is not even sure how long he has been sitting here. As soon as he came home, right after court ended, Seungwoo dragged himself into the apartment, out of his suit into a more comfortable outfit, and ended up sitting down before his legs gave out. 

Eunji kisses his forehead. “Well, take as much time as you need.” She gets up from the bed. “I’ve got some things to do tomorrow, so you’ll have the whole house to yourself.” She begins walking back out of the bedroom, before pausing. “I’ll make some beef stew?”

Seungwoo turns to her, trying his best to smile. “Thank you.”

Eunji smiles back, then closes the door behind her.

When she’s gone, Seungwoo reaches for his wallet on the dresser. With shaking hands, he flips through his bills to find the picture stuffed between. He had stuffed it in after speaking to his witnesses, almost forgetting it was there until a few days ago. 

Now, when he pulls it out again and sees Seungyoun’s smiling face, the tears immediately fall. 

It’s a picture he found in Evidence, by chance. A picture taken by one of the unit photographers. It was the day of Nero’s murder, when Seungyoun was translating. There he is, all smiles, looking over at Seungwoo, with his bright eyes and teasing lips, and Seungwoo has his terrified look on his face, so taken back by Seungyoun's presence. The memory makes him chuckle. How silly of him to be so afraid of Seungyoun back then. 

How right he was. 

The tears fall harder as he traces Seungyoun’s face with his finger. _“I hate you,”_ he sobs, before he tears the photograph, right down the middle.

It’s over.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**_You’ve changed me forever. And I’ll never forget you._ **

**Kiera Cass, _The Elite_**

  
  


**Seoul Prison, Seodaemun District  
** **January 6  
** **12:17 PM**

“You want to do _what_ now?” the guard asks, confused. 

“I’d like a few minutes with Cho Seungyoun,” Seungwoo answers. He holds out his badge again. “I was the Inspector on his case. I have some last questions for him.”

The guard still does not look convinced. Seungwoo worries that he will be turned away, but then the guard snorts, shaking his head with a mumbled, “Sure kid.” The guard radios someone, then hands Seungwoo a badge. “Head over to the left.”

Seungwoo takes the badge and quickly leaves before the guard changes his mind. 

He’s taken to a visitor’s room by three armed guards, and is told to wait. So he takes off his coat and hat, hanging them up on a coat hook, then pulls out his notebook and sets it on the table. He won’t have a use for it, but the guards don’t need to know that. 

After a few minutes, the door opens and the guards walk Seungyoun in. He’s chained at his hands and feet, and looks the thinnest and palest Seungwoo has seen him.

It still hurts, even though it shouldn’t. 

Seungyoun is transferred to the handcuffs on the table, and one if the guards tells Seungwoo “Ten minutes,” before all three head out the door. 

As soon as the door shuts, Seungyoun smiles. “Hello, Seungwoo.”

It still sounds the same, even after so many weeks. 

Seungwoo allows himself to give a small smile back. “Hi.”

“Did you need something?” Seungyoun wonders, cocking his head.

“I just...wanted to see you,” Seungwoo admits. That is the only reason why he is here. He wanted to see Seungyoun. For closure or his own sadistic need, he doesn’t know. But he needed to him, one last time.

The smile stays on his face. “Then I’m glad I could see you before I go.” Seungyoun casually says, as if he was going away on a vacation instead of being put to death tomorrow.

The emotions come faster than Seungwoo thought they would, and he’s swallowing down the hysterical sob in his throat. “Y-yeah.” 

Seungyoun must see his facade cracking, but just politely hums. “How are you?”

“Good,” Seungwoo replies. It comes out a bit choked, so he clears his throat before continuing. "I, uh, got sick a bit last week. But now I'm better." It's a stupid thing to say, but Seungyoun nods along with every word with the smile on his face. "And, um, I-I'm thinking of moving to a larger apartment."

"That's exciting," Seungyoun brightly says.

Seungwoo's heart begins to chip.

He clears his throat again, rubbing his hands on his pants. “And...my sister had her baby. A girl.”

That makes Seungyoun’s smile brighter. “Uncle Seungwoo?”

Seungwoo nods back with his own smile. “Uncle Seungwoo.” It’s the first time he’s smiled in weeks.

Another hum from Seungyoun. “And how’s the job?” 

“Fine. They want me to take on more responsibilities.” 

Seungyoun’s eyes light up. “A promotion?”

“Something like that,” Seungwoo admits, a bit bashful. It’s one step away from a promotion - something he was offered after solving Seungyoun’s case. 

Seungyoun smiles again. “Congratulations.” He reaches out as far as he can, and his fingers gently brush against Seungwoo’s hand. “You deserve it.”

He means it, and that makes it worse. 

Seungwoo can’t hold back the sob this time.

He feels Seungyoun’s fingers back against his hand. “Why are you crying?”

 _“I don’t know,”_ Seungwoo croaks, wiping the tears from his face. He shouldn’t be crying, not for Seungyoun. Not for a man who has killed people. But he _is._ Or maybe, he is crying for himself, at how pathetic he is for letting Seungyoun still have a hold on his heart. But every night he lies awake, wondering what would have happened if he and Seungyoun went to Los Angeles. Would they be as happy as Seungwoo hoped? Or would Seungyoun slip and reveal his true colors to Seungwoo? 

“Hey.” Seungyouns fingers tap against his hand. “It’s better this way. You’ll forget about me.” Another brush of them against Seungwoo’s hand. 

Seungwoo pulls his hand away, anger now bubbling up from his stomach. “Why do you _always_ act like you care about me.”

Seungyoun pulls his hand back and places both in his lap. “I told you,” he begins, slowly. The sad smile is back. “I meant everything I ever said to you.”

“So did I,” Seungwoo grits through his teeth. "And you played me like a fool."

This time, Seungyoun does not respond. He stays silent as Seungwoo wipes his tears, and remains silent, even when Seungwoo stares back at him. Neither speak; Seungwoo doesn’t because he is not sure what he wants to say. He wants to be angry, furious at Seungyoun for tricking him, making Seungwoo fall in love with him.

But he can’t. 

Because deep down, he knows that Seungyoun’s words are true, and maybe, just maybe, Seungyoun was in love with him too. 

There’s a knock at the door. “Five minutes!” a guard calls through the steel door.

Seungwoo does not wait for the five minutes. He stands up, turning his back to Seungyoun to get his coat and hat. 

“Before you go-”

Seungwoo freezes, but does not turn around. 

After a few seconds, Seungyoun asks, “Can we meet again? In our next lives?”

Seungwoo scoffs again, tugging his coat on. “What makes you think I want to see _you_ again?” He sends a scowl to Seungyoun, but Seungyoun just smiles.

“Maybe next time I won’t be a drug dealer and you a cop,” he says, wistful. “Maybe when we meet again, we can be friends. Or colleagues.” The last part comes out with a bit of a chuckle. Then, he bites his lip, looking away from Seungwoo for a second. When he makes eye contact again, Seungwoo tries to ignore the shine of tears in his eyes. “Or more.”

It takes all of Seungwoo’s strength to say something he will regret. Instead, he takes a deep breath, putting on his hat and walking towards the door. He opens it, and has one foot out before he stops. He can’t do it. 

He can’t just leave, not like this. Not after everything they've been through.

So, he turns back, taking in Seungyoun for the last time. “Goodbye, Seungyoun.”

Seungyoun smiles, and a tear rolls down his cheek. “Goodbye, Seungwoo.”

Seungwoo closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Prompter: I'd like a fic of Seungyoun as a jazz club singer.  
> Me: So what you're saying is you want a whole universe based off of LA Noir, got it. 
> 
> Dear Prompter,  
> Well, I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind. I didn't know much about LAN before starting this, so I watched a few hours of gameplay to get the idea and kind of fell in love with the universe. This took me months to complete, but I loved doing research for this fic. It was challenging, but I'm so happy to have written this!
> 
> Edit: Thank you all for your kind words!! I loved watching you all suffer :) And now that the fest is done I can officially say: as always, you can follow me at @meggsandbaecon on Twitter!


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